


Pack Mentality: A Wolf Alone

by combatfaerie



Series: Pack Mentality [2]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Don't copy to another site, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21816904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatfaerie/pseuds/combatfaerie
Summary: A sequel to PACK MENTALITY. Seth's pack might be small, but now that it includes his girlfriend Becky, both halves of his life seem to be coming together—until he encounters other werewolves on a full-moon night. When an attack puts those closest to him in danger, Seth faces a grim truth: as much as he may need his friends in his pack, he may have to resign himself to life as a wolf alone.
Relationships: Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Series: Pack Mentality [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562059
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

"So is sex with a werewolf different than with a . . . non-werewolf?" There wasn't an ounce of sarcasm in Dean's voice as he sat on the hood of Seth's SUV and gazed out into the dense forest.

Becky set down her coffee before she could scald herself with it. "Dean!"

"What? We all know you two have sex." Dean looked legitimately confused at her shock until she pointed at the leash and collar he was holding. Seth never wore them unless some unsuspecting humans wandered past and he had to pretend to be a dog. "What, the leash? Some people are into that, Irish. I don't judge."

"That's not what I meant!" Becky shook her head and let out a long breath, mostly just to see it curl up into the chilly air. Waiting in the SUV would have been more comfortable, but Seth had been having problems shifting back to his human form lately, so they wanted to be able to get to him quickly if necessary.

"Then what?" When Dean finally clued in, he rolled his eyes and his hand—and almost tumbled off the SUV. "I didn't mean . . . you know, when he's a _wolf_ -wolf. _Obviously._ I just meant in general. Like the difference between fucking a wrestler and a non-wrestler, that sort of thing."

Becky brought her cup back up to her mouth again, hoping it and her fluffy mittens would hide most of her blush. "It's hard to know what to . . . attribute to Seth being a werewolf and what's just . . . _him_. I mean, I've never been afraid of him or anything." Seth had been advised against having sex on full-moon nights, but they had come dangerously close more than once. So far nothing had happened, but Seth was torn between carnal curiosity and his ever-present worry about hurting her. "It's not like he howls or anything. . . ."

Dean leaned back on his elbows and chuckled. "I bet he would," he teased, "if you asked him to."

"And people say _I'm_ horrible. Honestly." Becky couldn't help but grin, though. In some ways, hanging around with Dean was like someone had taken her unfiltered voice out of her head and plunked it in a separate body. Seth had worried that Dean and Becky would butt heads too often; now he was more worried about them ganging up on him. Roman had a wholesome, steady vibe that made people feel instantly at ease with him, and he was a natural moderator—but that didn't mean he didn't take some shots at Seth too. "How are things with you and Renee?"

"Nice deflection, Irish. And no, I'm not telling you if we use leashes, so don't bother asking." A loud thump made him straighten up. "Was that you?"

Becky shook her head, gazing around the SUV. They weren't in Seth's regular spot even though they were close to his home, but it was still heavily wooded and sparsely travelled; on the hour-long drive, they only saw four other cars heading the same direction, and the road through their particular patch of forest had been empty ever since they had arrived. "Maybe something fell in the back?" She had started to say _shifted_ instead of _fell_ , but caught herself; a lot of words she had taken for granted before now felt loaded.

"Shouldn't be anything back there but a spare go-bag for Seth." Dean slid down from the hood and went around to the back, popping open the rear door and peering inside. "Nope, everything looks fine in here."

Then Becky caught the barest flick of motion out of the corner of her eye, so small it could have been a wayward eyelash coming loose. Staying as still as she could, she inched her phone out of her jacket pocket and sent Dean a quick text: _Quiet. I thought I saw something._

To her constant surprise, Dean didn't have his phone programmed with a litany of obnoxious notification sounds. A brief ping was all she heard and then some soft swearing before the SUV shook a bit beneath her; Dean had shut the door as gently as possible, but it was still heavy. She shut her phone off and angled the screen so it was like a dark mirror, and she watched him come up behind her. "What did you see?" Even with him leaning up against her arm, she barely heard his hushed words.

"Not sure." After slipping her phone back in her jacket, Becky picked up her cup again, using it to shield her mouth as she spoke. "A tail, maybe?"

"Could be Seth. Run time is play time." On his good full moons, Seth loved it if Dean or Becky or Roman would go out into the forest with him. He was always careful not to bite or scratch them—he could only infect a human if he was in wolf form—but among his closest friends, his pack, he usually acted more like a big rambunctious dog than a wolf. "Maybe he's telling us the coast is clear and he wants us to play?"

It was possible, Becky supposed. This was a site he didn't use often, so he would have wanted to do a thorough search before asking them to play. But why wouldn't he just bound toward them openly? He had licked Becky's face before and knocked Dean into piles of snow; he was hardly shy. "I don't think so." Then they both froze, eyes drawn by a large ripple of movement. "Should we call for Seth?" she asked as she slid down from the hood, glancing in every direction for any sign of him. In case of emergency, he was supposed to listen for the dog name of Danny.

"Wait. I think he's coming." Dean straightened up a bit and pointed to some smaller trees rustling to their left. "Probably heard the thump too and came to check on us. What a good boy."

Becky was going to smack his arm and reprimand him, but a shivery feeling started in her gut and radiated outward, almost making her nauseous. "Dean . . . that's not Seth." She wasn't sure at first, not when she had just seen the paws and then the legs, but this wolf—and there was no doubt in her mind that it was a wolf, because she had spent her last few full-moon nights studying and appreciating how Seth moved on four legs—was almost pure white, only the tips of its ears and tail edged in black.

"Shit." Running into a natural wolf was always a risk and Seth tried to scout out places that weren't known to have large wolf populations, but urban sprawl and lack of food was making animals of all sorts leave their comfort zones. When Dean reached for the driver's side door, his face paled. "That's not Seth either." 

The second wolf must have been keeping pace with the first, because it was in almost exactly the same position as the first, just on the opposite side of the road. It mirrored the white wolf in colouring as well, a negative image of mostly black fur with its ears and tail frosted white. "SETH!" It was more of an instinct than anything, the desperate urge to warn Seth that he wasn't alone in the forest, but to Becky it felt like trying to scream in a nightmare: her voice was too small, too strained to carry as far as she needed it to.

"Becky, get in the car!" Dean wrenched the door open and shoved at her to get her inside, not even bothering to apologize when his hand landed on her ass. "Call Rom— _FUCK!_ " Something with terrifying weight and momentum hit the driver's side door—while Dean's arm was still inside. Becky knew the sound of a bone breaking when she heard it and she flinched, reaching across the console. But Dean just yanked his injured arm free and slammed the door. "CALL ROMAN!" he yelled again, and then she heard a high-pitched canine whimper. 

Becky's heart immediately clenched at the yelp, but she forced herself to stay in the passenger's seat and fumble for her phone. It wasn't like Dean was kicking some innocent dog because it was barking or it had peed on his shoes. In her panic, it took her several tries to enter her code into her phone and find her contacts, and then she froze. Roman was with his family in Florida; what could he possibly do from there? Then the SUV rocked suddenly, first on the driver's side as Dean slammed the white wolf into the door, and then on hers. When Becky looked out her window, two icy blue eyes glared back at her. It was tempting to think the white around the wolf's ears was a sign of advancing age, but it was showing no signs of infirmity.

Looking around the inside of the SUV, Becky was desperate to find anything that could be used as a weapon, but Seth usually packed light on full-moon nights to limit the amount of damage he could cause. At a loss, she pressed on the horn as hard as she could, wincing at the noise. It might not scare these two wolves away, but it would hopefully alert Seth so he would know to run to safety. She wasn't sure how long he could safely stay in wolf form, but she hoped he wasn't trying to shift back; he was so weak right after a transformation, and he would be no match for two vicious wolves.

All Becky could see that might help Dean was a spare leash, this one just a thick chain linked to a collar. If she could somehow get behind the wolf that was attacking him—while avoiding the black one that no longer seemed to be snarling at her door—maybe she could choke the wolf long enough for Dean to get inside the SUV. Before she could open her door, though, the black wolf tumbled over the hood. A moment later, Seth leapt up, briefly meeting her gaze through the windshield. _Stay there_ , the look said, both a plea and an order; Becky listened because of the former.

Snarls and whimpers filled her ears and when one of the side doors opened, Becky screamed, trying to wrap the chain around her fist as she turned. But it was Dean who slumped inside, flopping across the back seat and cradling his injured right arm to his chest. "Forget that I ever asked about werewolf sex. I think it's going to be out of my league."

"Dean. Shit." Becky tossed the leash to the floor and tried to tune out the sounds of the wolves—of _Seth_ —fighting just on the other side of the door as she climbed over the console and into the back seat. "How bad is it?"

"I heard a crack. I know that's never good." It was never good when Dean was even semi-serious either, but every time Becky tried to examine his arm, he shook his head. "That was Seth, right? The third one? Otherwise we are utterly fucked."

"It was." Becky sat back and listened. The sudden silence was more unnerving than the snarls had been. "Dean, what do I do? I need something to do." All the adrenaline and fear surging through her needed an outlet. "Let me splint your arm with something," she said, crawling over his seat as well and going back into the cargo area. "Or I can go see where Seth is. . . ."

Dean reached up with his good arm and tugged on Becky's ankle before she made it all the way into the cargo hold. "No, you aren't. He'll either kill me if you leave the car or he'll get himself killed trying to protect you."

Becky tugged her leg free and landed clumsily in the cargo area, nearly squishing Seth's spare bag. "Can we stop talking about killing, please? It's too quiet out there." As if to prove her wrong, a plaintive howl cut through the silence and she edged closer to the rear window. A wolf was sprawled just behind the SUV, licking an injured leg. " _Seth_." Without thinking, Becky opened the rear door and hopped out, crashing to her knees. "Seth, get in the car." Touching him in wolf form was always a risk, but doing so right after a brutal fight was probably sheer madness. She did it anyway. If he snapped at her or bit her, that was her problem; she needed the reassurance of knowing he was okay.

When Becky finally had enough sense to look around for the other wolves, she couldn't see them. The road was splattered with blood, though; passersby would probably assume a deer had been shot or hit. Seth whimpered a bit, pushing at her hands with his nose. "I can't drive, man," Dean called out, "and you can't either. Irish will manage just fine."

Then Becky looked up towards the woods where Seth had been running. He always took some supplies out with him: a blanket, some water and granola bars, towels and wet wipes. His clothes would be out there too. "Should I go get his things? They shouldn’t be far—"

Dean bellowed _NO!_ at the same time Seth let out a high-pitched whine. "Get him in the car and let's get out of here," Dean groaned, forcing himself to sit up. "I'll coach you through the back roads and we can come back tomorrow to collect his things."

"But what about his clothes? If someone takes them, the DNA. . . ." Then Becky focussed on helping Seth up into the cargo area. "Were those natural wolves or werewolves?" she asked. Seth's head dipped in a nod when she said _werewolves_ and she spat out a particularly sharp curse. "Fuck it, I'm going." Making sure Seth was fully inside, Becky slammed the cargo door shut and took off at a run, ignoring Dean's profanity-laden protests.

It was a nice forest. Becky would have appreciated a walk, even a jog, under more pleasant circumstances, but she couldn’t take the time to enjoy the scenery. She had been on enough full-moon runs with Seth that she knew some of his habits and had started to help pack his supply bag. It wasn't much, but the fact that she was making an effort to be a part of his world seemed to make Seth happy, so it was worth it. She knew the types of areas where he usually liked to set up his camp, and it didn't take her long to spot the plaid blanket. _Clothes, water, towels. . . ._ Becky did a quick mental inventory as she crammed everything into the well-used duffel bag. It wasn't a pretty packing job, but it would have to do.

She was halfway back when she heard the first howl. The second made her start to run. By the third, Dean had opened the passenger side door and was screaming at her to hurry. Becky thought about throwing the bag ahead of her so she could concentrate on running, but it wasn't that heavy and, in a pinch, it might work as a distraction. Part of her wanted to know how many wolves there were, but she didn't dare slow down.

It was only when she reached the SUV and dived inside, swearing as her knee banged against the door, that she realized the wolves were no longer howling, When she turned to look, she could see four wolves distinctly, including the two that had attacked them at the SUV; silhouettes and movement in the trees beyond, though, hinted at more.

Dean slumped back in his seat and patted Becky's shoulder. "Know that I say this with affection, but you are a crazy bitch. That was insanity. They could have mauled you." He leaned forward to ruffle her hair and kiss the top of her head wearily.

"But they didn't." Becky kept staring out the passenger window, transfixed, until the wolves turned one by one and fell back into the darker depths of the forest. Her reply wasn't meant to be cocky or snide; she couldn’t believe that she had emerged unscathed. When she went to hand the bag back to Dean, she found herself face to face with Seth, still in wolf form, worry narrowing his eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "But if they're werewolves and they took your things, there could be . . . I don't know, traces of DNA and shit—not literal shit, but you know—and they could find out who you are and make it public and I didn't want. . . ."

Seth moved forward, paws balancing awkwardly on the slick console as he nuzzled Becky's face. "The puppy love is adorable and all," Dean remarked, strain stretching his voice thin, "but I'm gonna need this arm seen to and we should really get out of here so Seth can change back." His tone softened with sympathy as he added, "If you're too shaken to drive, Irish, I can do it."

"No. I'll do it." Becky gave Seth's ears a quick stroke before she climbed into the driver's seat. She drove slow at first, giving her nerves time to settle while there wasn't anyone behind her to complain at her snail-like pace. By the time she reached more populated roads, following Dean's instructions for obscure turns, her breathing was almost even. When they were at a red light, she turned to look at Seth, who had his head pillowed on Dean's thigh. "Do you want to go home," she asked, "or would you rather change somewhere else?" He had a room in his basement that he used in absolute emergencies, but it wasn't comfortable. It was much easier on him to be out in the elements, tapping into the energy of nature.

Seth's wolf eyes carried just as much emotion as his human ones, and he nodded his shaggy head slowly. "Home it is. You know the way from here?" Dean asked, running a hand through Seth's fur. It was probably as much to comfort him as it was to look for injuries.

"Yeah. I should be fine." Becky wasn't sure it was the wisest course of action. If anyone had followed them or tagged Seth's SUV, she would be leading them right back to his house, which brought up the whole risk of exposure again. But there was really no better place to go. If someone was tracking Seth, they would simply follow them wherever they went.

"Irish?" When Becky glanced in the rear-view mirror, Dean looked pale but steady. "After we get Seth settled, do you think we can do a hospital run on the way to get some beer?"

Becky smiled, hoping neither Seth nor Dean caught her small sob. "That should probably be the other way around, but yeah. I think we all need a drink after tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

Once Seth was safely in his wolf-proofed basement room, Becky had driven Dean to the nearest hospital. "Go check on our boy," he said gruffly, hugging Becky with his good arm. "I'll grab a cab back. It shouldn't be long. Most doctors are happy to see me go."

"Okay. If you're sure. Did you want me to call Renee?" Becky offered.

Dean shook his head. "Nah. She'll just worry. Just grab me some good beer for when I get back."

"That I can do." There was a liquor store not far from the hospital and she wandered the brightly lit aisles in such a daze the poor clerk probably thought she was already drunk. Her phone pinged on the drive back to Seth's, but she didn't check it until she arrived; after everything that had happened that night, it would be just her luck to get in an accident while distracted by her phone.

_Safe._ The single-word text from Seth almost made her melt with relief, but it put enough of a spring in her step to get her inside the house. After she put the beer in the fridge, Becky hurried down to the basement, barely remembering to knock on the thick, reinforced door. "I'm good. Come in."

The wolf room, as Becky called it, was sparse and purposefully so; the fewer things that were in the room, the less destruction the wolf could cause. There was a Murphy bed built in to the wall in such a way that the wolf wouldn’t be able to bring it down and a small fridge that was also built in, equipped with a keypad lock for good measure. It wouldn't be fun, but Seth would be able to survive in there for a couple days if he had to; the builders had probably thought it was some sort of panic room. "Hey. Sorry I took so long. I sort of zoned out in the liquor store," Becky said, stepping inside. The Murphy bed was still up and Seth was sprawled in the centre of the bare floor, naked and sweaty and panting. There was no shower in the wolf room, but Becky had made sure he had some towels and a set of clothes before she left.

Seth reached up for her and she let him pull her down to his chest. Werewolves sought comfort in their pack when they were stressed, hurt, or under attack, Seth had told her, and she was part of his woefully small pack. Aside from her, Dean, and Roman, only a few people in WWE knew about his nature. Becky considered it an honour, but after tonight, she realized it also made her a target of sorts. "You're okay? You didn't get bit or anything, right? No scratches?" Seth wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. "Dean's okay?"

"Dean hurt his arm in the door. I asked him if he was bitten or scratched and he said no." Becky wasn't sure she believed him, but that argument could wait until he got back. She shut her eyes and settled in. Werewolf sweat was different than human sweat, she had quickly learned, and she found the woodsy scent strangely soothing; right now it was simple proof that Seth was alive. "How are you?" She hadn't noticed any major injuries when she came in the room, but Seth's accelerated healing could have taken care of any superficial exterior wounds. She was more worried about possible internal damage.

"Sore. Terrified." Seth nuzzled her hair. "What were you thinking, running out to get my stuff? They could have attacked you!" His ragged breathing sounded almost like a growl.

"But they didn't." It was the same answer she had given Dean, and it felt just as unsatisfying as the first time. "Do you have any idea who they were?"

Seth shook his head. "No. I haven't even really spent any time with the relatives I know are werewolves. One of the readings says that kin should be able to recognize each other by scent, but none of them were familiar to me." He rubbed small circles along her lower back. "When you went out there to get my stuff, how many wolves were there?"

"I heard at least three. I thought I could see at least four, but then there was movement in the forest. . . ." Becky sighed and put a hand over his heart. It was still racing, but it could take him hours to fully change back depending on the circumstances. "Dean told me to call Roman and I just froze. But he's in Florida; what good would that do?"

"Roman knows a few other werewolves. Not super well or anything, but maybe Dean figured he could ask around. It wouldn’t have done much at the time," Seth agreed, "but I guess it would mean that someone would know where to look for us, at the very least." Then he went quiet for a bit. "I had no idea what to do. You and Dean could have been killed. I hadn't even thought of shit like that when I asked you guys to come with me. I should be going out on my own—"

"No." Becky twisted around enough so that she could kiss him. In terms of sexual activity, he was still in the danger zone, although they'd had some post-shift encounters that cut it very close. Right now, though, she only wanted to comfort him. "That's even less safe. Maybe you need a pack. A real pack," she said before he could pipe up. "Other werewolves. Safety in numbers and all that. They could help you in ways Dean and Roman and I can't."

Of course, a real werewolf pack would probably also have werewolf women who would be able to understand his human side _and_ his wolf, and then maybe Seth would decide he didn't need his little human fling anymore—

"Stop it," Seth chided softly. He wasn't exactly psychic, but he had an uncanny ability to sense when she was chastising herself. "You guys mean the world to me. You know that. But . . . I probably should try to meet some of the relatives on my dad's side. Even if we . . . don't get along, maybe they can tell me who those other wolves are. There's probably territory lines and all sorts of shit I don't even know about."

"That would be good." Becky shut her eyes. She had done the least out of the three of them, yet she was exhausted.

"I'll call my mom tomorrow and ask if she knows how to get in touch with any of them." Seth let his fingers trail along her neck. "Come with me?"

"Of course." The answer had come automatically, but Becky second-guessed herself later. Werewolves were one thing; boyfriends' mothers were a whole other creature.


	3. Chapter 3

Seth had a full-size SUV, but as soon as you put all of The Shield in it, it seemed to shrink. After Seth had reverted to human form and settled in, he called Roman and let him know what happened, and Roman promptly got a plane ticket for the next available flight. As much as Seth protested, he spent most of the five hours of Roman's flight making sure his friend's chosen room was ready for him and that his fridge was stocked. "I hate that he feels like he has to come and play big brother," Seth said as Becky helped him change the sheets on Roman's bed. 

Any negativity in his voice was directly solely at himself, and Becky hated it. Even without speaking to Roman, she knew he was coming because he wanted to, because he considered Seth a brother and a friend and he would do anything to help him. "If it was the other way around," she replied gently, hugging him from behind, "you would drop everything to help him and you know it. Why is it different if he's doing it for you?"

Seth lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Because he's got a wife and kids who deserve his time, and he hardly gets to see them as it is. He even offered to stay behind for this full moon and I told him to go home, because he hardly ever gets a full weekend with his family, and now look what happens? One day in, and he's already leaving."

"He's doing it because he wants to, Seth. And you would do the exact same for him or Dean." Becky didn't think repeating it would do much good, but it was true. Now that she and Seth were officially dating, more or less, she had seen Seth do countless things, big and small, to help out his Shield brothers. They didn't do it for praise or for future favours; it was always out of respect and affection. 

"And you." Seth squeezed her hands, still pressed to his stomach, and then turned around in her arms. "You know that, right?"

Becky nodded. She would never ask him to pick between her and The Shield. It wouldn't be fair, but it also wasn't necessary; Roman and Dean were her friends too, and together they were united in their devotion to Seth's secret. "I do." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "Come on. Let's find Dean and head to the airport. Roman's flight should be landing in half an hour."

An hour later, after being delayed by some requests for fan photos at the airport, they were heading to Seth's mother's house in Davenport. "You're sure you don't want to drop off your bags at my place and chill for a bit?" Seth said, glancing over at Roman in the passenger seat. It had been Roman's idea to go directly to Holly's, but Seth wanted to make sure. 

Dean and Becky were in the back seat, watching funny dog videos on Becky's phone. "Or we could go back to the scene of the crime," Dean piped up. When Roman turned to look at him, he shrugged. "Well, it was technically a crime, wasn't it? I've just always wanted to say that, and if criminal people usually return to the scene of the crime, then maybe criminal werewolves would too, because they're half human."

"That's not how it works." Becky shut down the video and sent a quick text to Charlotte. Bayley had planned a Four Horsewomen party for the next night, but Becky wasn't sure she would be able to make it, and she didn't want Seth to think he was an imposition. "Werewolves are in human form some of the time and wolf form at other times."

"But shouldn't Seth only be half-werewolf, then?" Dean started drumming on his knees. If he was in a car for too long and wasn't the one driving, he got very fidgety. His injured arm was heavily taped, and Becky wondered what sort of story he would tell the McMahons come Monday. "Because only his dad was a werewolf, right? Unless your mom is too, dude. Is she?"

In the rear-view mirror, Seth rolled his eyes. " _No._ If my mom was a werewolf or even knew about them through her family, don't you think she would have seen the signs in me way earlier? She's just done a lot of research, that's all, and she still has the contact information for some of my father's relatives."

Privately, Becky always wondered why Seth never just asked his mother for the information so he had it available whenever he needed it. She didn't think Holly was purposefully keeping it from him, but he also wouldn’t always be conveniently close to home when something went wrong. _What if this had happened on an overseas tour?_ Becky thought, feeling her stomach lurch. _What if something happened and Seth couldn't contact her and Dean and Roman weren't there?_ Seth might have considered Becky a part of his pack now, but Holly wasn't quite so welcoming; if Becky had called her for help, Holly might not even answer the phone.

It didn't take long to get to Holly's and she was already at the front door waiting for them, waving as soon as Roman stepped out of the SUV. Dean got a wave as well, if somewhat less enthusiastic, and Seth got a bright but worried smile. Becky made a point of being the last to exit so the other three couldn't claim they didn't see how Holly's eyes got icy in her presence. "Sorry about the short notice, Mom," Seth said, hugging his mother tightly before stepping into her house. "I appreciate it."

"Any time, Colby. Hi, Roman. Always a pleasure to see you! How's your family doing?" Holly's voice was still warm as she gave Roman a quick hug. 

"Hi, Holly. Everyone's happy and healthy, thanks for asking. Everything good here?" As Holly described some health concerns and a break-in in the neighbourhood, Roman shot Becky a look, as if trying to prove that Holly had her good side too.

But Becky already knew that. She knew Holly loved Seth with all her heart and did her best to support her son in every way she could. That support just apparently didn’t extend to Becky.

"Hi, Dean. Hello, Rebecca." Holly's formality was as frosty as her eyes as she ushered everyone into her house. "Come sit in the living room." But Becky had no sooner sat down than Holly continued on to the hallway, talking all the while. "Go through to the office. I got out my copies of everything you have, Colby, and I verified the phone number. . . ." When Becky started to rise and follow, though, Holly stopped. "I think the call is best kept to family. I'm sure you understand."

"Oh. Of course." Becky tried to catch Seth's gaze, but he had already gone down the hallway.

Roman knew exactly what Holly meant, but he shot Becky a sympathetic glance. "Of course." He nudged Dean until he moved back into the living room. "We'll wait here for you."

Holly blushed a bit. "Oh, I didn't mean you, Roman. You're like a brother to him—"

Dean wasn't nearly as subtle as Roman. "Oh, so you meant me, then? Or did you mean Becky? Both of us? I just want to make sure. People mix us up all the time. Must be our incredible jaw lines, huh, Irish?"

Seth must have finally realized that no one was following him, because he doubled back, expression taut when he looked at the simmering face-off. "Hey. What's going on?"

"Nothing. Sounds like that office is going to be a bit . . . stuffy. Irish and I will sit this one out and you can fill us in after. What do you say, Becks?" Dean looped a companionable arm around Becky's shoulders. "I think I saw a porch swing in the back. We can pretend to be old people and shake our fists at the youths."

Becky had tried to school her face into neutrality, at least, since she doubted she could manage calm, but Seth clearly saw right through it. "Mom, what did you—"

But Becky shook her head, not quite meeting Seth's gaze; he would see even more there, and none of it would be anything he liked. "Go make your calls, Seth. Roman is probably tired. The sooner you're done here, the sooner we can go home." She made a point of catching Holly's gaze as she said the last. "Lead the way, Dean."

" _Mom_ , you know I've told Becky. . . ." Seth's protests dwindled to incomprehensible muttering as Becky and Dean went into the backyard. It wasn't Seth's childhood house; he and Holly had moved a few times since he was young, and then he had bought her a house when his career started taking off. The neighbourhood wasn't exclusive, but it was wealthy enough that they didn't have to worry about being hassled by fans trying to sneak pictures either.

"Come on, Irish. Let's contaminate the porch swing with our heathen germs." Dean sat down first, keeping the swing stable so Becky could get on as well. Then he patted her knee. If Roman personified a protective big brother, Dean was the middle child, the one who got less attention and thus got away with more shenanigans. He had the irritating ability to make Becky smile even when she didn't want to. "Don't worry about her," he said softly, pointing to a second storey window with a light on. "You're dating Seth, not her."

"I know, but . . . what does she have against me?" From the very first time she met Holly, Becky tried to do everything right, but Seth's mother had never warmed to her. "I've been polite. I've been kind. I've been respectful. Does she think I'm not good enough for him or something?"

Dean draped his arm around her shoulders again and pulled her in close as if he were going to tell her a story. "I don't think it's you, honestly. I know that's how it must feel, but I think she's just worried. Seth has never told any of his other girlfriends about being a werewolf, and he was with some of them for _years_. Hell, some of them _lived_ with him and they never suspected anything. And then you come along and all of a sudden he declares that you're part of his pack. She's just being protective. A mama bear. Or mama wolf, I guess, in this case."

"But I would never reveal anything. Ever. Even if things went horribly wrong between Seth and me." Becky instinctively went to knock on wood, but the house was too far away, so she settled for tapping her knuckles on Dean's knee. 

"You know that and Seth knows that; that's the important thing." Then Dean tapped his chest with his free hand. "Roman and I know that too, and I guess that's important because we're stuck with that doe-eyed puppy for life now. Here's a tip, Irish: avoid friends at all costs. Friends mean feelings, and feelings are messy and then before you know it, you're buying a second copy of their favourite novelty mug so they can use it when they're at your house."

Becky laughed. "Damn. Does that mean I should take the heat-activated dinosaur footprint mug back to the store? I had to special order that, you know."

Dean waved his free hand dismissively. "No, no, not necessary. I usually keep friends around two years, so you're fine for now. I'll send you a postcard letting you know when your friendship is about to expire."

"Handy." Becky let her head tip back as she shut her eyes. All the humour was helping lift her spirits, but she knew the problem wasn't going to be resolved so easily. She would never ask Seth to pick her over his mother, but if Becky knew if she planned to be a part of Seth's life—and she definitely wanted to—she would have to find a way to reconcile with his mother. "But seriously, what did I do? Or not do?"

"Technically, I think it's more about what Seth did, but because Holly can't bring herself to hate her son, she's taking it out on you." Dean pushed off from the patio to get the swing moving again. "If you two were just dating, I think she'd actually adore you. Even if you were just friends with benefits, she would probably like you. It's that you know his secret. He told you without even talking to her about it. And yes," Dean stressed, trying to cut off Becky's protest before it began, "he's a grown-ass adult and doesn't need her permission. But like I said, she's just being protective. She knows Seth has had bad luck with women and, being his mom, she . . . doesn't necessarily want to acknowledge that he was at fault for a lot of that."

"I get it, I guess. But it sucks. I feel like I'm being punished for something that hasn't even happened." Then Becky let out a sigh. It was probably late in the season for the porch swing and she was getting a bit chilly, but Dean wasn't exactly a casual cuddler. "Thanks for keeping me company. I'll have to thank Roman too. He tried to call her out in a more discreet way, I guess."

"We know you're good for Seth. That's the difference. Holly hasn't figured that out yet, Hell, given how many years it took for _him_ to figure it out, it's not surprising that she's not at the hugging stage yet." Dean reached up to ruffle her hair. "Like I said, don't worry about her."

It was easier said than done, especially if you weren't the one who had to do it. Becky felt a sudden jolt of sympathy for Seth's former girlfriends. If they'd had even a fraction of the frosty reception she got from Holly, they would have been doomed from the start. Before Becky could ask Dean about that, she heard her phone chime in her pocket. "From Roman," she said after she pulled out her phone. " _Almost done. Should be ready to leave in 10. Meet at car?_ " He clearly wanted to avoid another confrontation for Seth's sake as well.

Beside her, Dean nodded. "Sure. Let's walk through the alley like hoodlums and make all the soccer moms call Neighbourhood Watch at the same time and jam the switchboard."

_Sounds good. We're taking the long way through the alley,_ Becky typed back so neither Roman nor Seth would be surprised if they looked out and didn't see Dean and Becky in the back yard. Then Dean showed off, vaulting over the fence while Becky took the more conventional way through the gate. The alley space was as well kept as the front lawns were in other neighbourhoods, tidy and brightly lit. Each garage they passed seem to have motion lights and their presence sent some of the neighbourhood's smaller dogs into a tizzy. The house at the very end of the alley had a gorgeous white German Shepherd, but it wasn't bothered by them in the least. "I always figured dogs would freak out around him," Becky admitted as they rounded the corner, "at least around the full moon if not all the time."

Dean laughed, scuffing his feet along the sidewalk. "Must be his animal magnetism. It worked on you, after all."

"I still have the receipt for that mug. . . ." Becky bumped him with her shoulder as they started down the sidewalk to the front of Holly's house. "We don't have the car keys," she realized. "We won't be able to get in." The only thing possibly more awkward than going back through Holly's house was lingering at the SUV, waiting for Seth and Roman to say their goodbyes.

"Honestly, Irish. Didn't you misspend any of your youth?" When they reached the SUV, he patted the slight dent in the front passenger door. Seth had taken it in for emergency repairs and the auto body shop workers had smoothed over the worst of the damage in a rush job; he hadn't wanted his mother to see how vicious the attack had been. The rest of the repairs were scheduled for the next day.

"With beer, maybe," Becky conceded, "not cars." As soon as she saw Dean trying to climb onto the SUV's roof, she darted forward. "What are you doing? You have an injured arm. You're already going to have to tell a whopper to the McMahons on Monday."

Dean pointed again to the half-repaired dent on Seth's SUV. "Physical evidence. Seth took pictures for reference on his phone before he took it in for repairs. I can say that we were t-boned or something and everyone involved agreed to settle things privately." Then he winked at Becky. "Or I can just say you were driving. Then _everyone_ will believe there was an accident."

"Yeah, definitely taking that mug back," Becky said with a grin.

"Thanks for letting me know. It'll save me a postage stamp and a friendship expiration notice card." Dean tried to climb up again, but the movement put too much strain on his arm and he swore. "I'm pretty sure the sunroof is open a crack. You should be able to push it all the way and drop in."

It might not have been a gated community, but it was still the type of neighbourhood where people would notice—and report—suspicious behaviour, but at the moment Becky didn't care. They would be long gone before any police would arrive, and if it made the neighbours give Holly some hassle, so much the better. _So petty,_ Becky chastised herself as she climbed up on the hood and examined the sunroof. Like Dean recalled, Seth hadn't remembered to fully close the sunroof, and she was able to pry it open most of the way. There was no truly graceful way to drop inside, so she settled on the quickest. Once she had her footing inside, she reached across and unlocked the back passenger side door. "You're such a bad influence," she laughed as he climbed inside.

"Hey, now. I didn't teach you how to hotwire it yet." Then Dean looked back at the house. The front door was still closed. "If they take much longer, though, I will and then we can take off."

Luckily it didn't come to that. Within a few minutes, Seth and Roman were on the front step, hugging Holly goodbye. Seth had a plastic grocery bag full of papers in his hand and when he opened the rear passenger door, Dean started to reach for it, but Seth shook his head. "Go sit up front. Roman's driving."

Becky's heart twisted. Seth loved driving, which was great for her because she didn't. More than just loving it, though, he actively disliked letting other people drive his vehicles. She wasn't sure if it was a control issue or what, but for Seth to willingly hand over the keys when he wasn't incapable of driving was a worrying sign. "I'm fine," Becky said under her breath while the three Shield members rearranged their regular seating configuration. Roman shot her a quick smile in the rear-view mirror before pulling away from the curb, and Dean slouched in the front passenger seat, muttering about Roman's 'old-man driving'.

Seth set his bag down by his feet and curled a hand around Becky's knee. "I'm sorry," he said, eyes dark with discomfort. "My mom—"

"It's her house," Becky replied, trying to keep any stiffness from her voice. Holly's behaviour wasn't Seth's fault. "So did you find out anything about those other wolves?" She didn't want to talk about his mom in the SUV, not with Roman and Dean right there; it was more of a private matter. "Were your relatives any help?"

"Becks. . . ." Ignoring his Shield mates, Seth moved as far as his seatbelt would allow and kissed her, letting his hand linger on her neck. "Please don't be mad."

"I'm upset," she clarified, "not mad. But we can talk about that later." Becky flicked her gaze slightly to the front of the SUV. "So did you find out anything helpful?"

Sighing, Seth pointed to the bag at his feet. "Mom gave me a bunch of letters to go through and some contact information. We called one of my uncles and he said he wasn't aware of any organized packs in the Quad Cities area, but he's going to ask around. He travels a lot with his work. I tried to describe the main wolves as best I could, but I don't know how much help it will be. I don't know what's considered unique for a werewolf."

"And the territory thing?" Becky leaned her head against Seth's shoulder as best she could with their seatbelts keeping them in place.

"Apparently not as much of an issue as the movies would have you believe," Seth reported, his hand moving back to Becky's leg and curling around her thigh. She used to think the gesture looked weirdly possessive, but now that she was dating someone who liked to touch her as often as he could, she could see more of the appeal. "Sounds like most werewolves are pretty nomadic, especially the larger packs. They would be too noticeable if they stayed in any one place for too long."

"Makes sense." The whole configuration in the SUV felt weird to Becky; she kept expecting to either look behind her and see Dean or look ahead to see Seth. "So if they aren't territorial, why did they attack?"

Seth shrugged awkwardly. "One theory my uncle had is that they thought you and Dean were a threat. I guess there are people who hunt down werewolves for all sorts of reasons: fur, bones, thinking they can get magical powers, everything. If they thought you two were tracking me, they might have thought they were doing me a favour."

"But they fought back against you. Fought back _hard_ , not just _stop and listen to me, idiot_ hard." The whole situation was confusing and Becky was struggling to make any pieces fit together. "And when I went back for your stuff, they didn't attack me, and they had plenty of chances to." She shuddered at that, even knowing she would do it again that very second if she thought it would help Seth. They could have attacked her at any given second after she had left the SUV, so if they had considered her a threat, why hadn't they done something about it? They could have easily torn her apart before Seth or Dean would have been able to get out of the SUV to come help.

"Maybe they're just asshole werewolves," Dean piped up, and Becky remembered that everything Seth was saying was new information to him too. "Maybe they were jealous that you know so many gorgeous humans."

Becky laughed. "Good thing Roman wasn't there, then. They would have lost it completely."

"Stop flattering the driver," Roman said with a grin. "I'm trying to get us home safely."

_Home_. With a guilty pang, Becky remembered what she had said when Holly had shut her out from the meeting: _The sooner you're done here, the sooner we can go home._ It was petty and she knew it; she had known it at the time and it wasn't any better now, but she had needed to lash out at something so she didn't take Holly's slight to heart.

"Does that mean I should stop looking some of the thirsty posts on Twitter for my dramatic reading then?" Dean quipped. "There's such great material. Honestly, Creative should hire some of them. Like this one: 'Roman can spear me any time', wink wink. A-plus use of wrestling terminology." Dean kept scrolling through Twitter, trying to lighten the mood with absurd posts.

While Dean was amusing them all, Seth inched his hand up Becky's thigh a little more. "I need some moves with innuendo," he whispered. "The curb stomp is hard to make sexy, I guess."

"Let Roman have the innuendo," Becky smiled. "I'd rather have the real thing."

"I can arrange that." To Becky's surprise, Seth turned to the front of the SUV and interrupted Dean's tweet critique. "When we get back to my place, you two will be fine on your own for a while, right?"

Becky's face went from neutral to an inferno in mere seconds. " _Seth_ —"

But his Shield brothers just laughed—not lewdly or with derision, but the affectionate exasperation of friends used to accommodating another friend's foibles. "We'll be fine," Roman promised. "I can get Dean up to speed on everything your uncle said and you two—"

"Will be a while," Seth said simply, smiling over at Becky as he squeezed her thigh.

_Be a while._ If he was lucky. If his hand moved much higher, Becky might have to get Roman to pull over.


	4. Chapter 4

When it came to tracking full moons, Seth usually drew a large circle on his calendar, almost like a sideways egg. The actual night of the full moon was always the worst, but the days before and after were touchy too. Sometimes he could feel the effects as early as a week before or as late as a week after, which led to his mother making jokes that drew parallels to menstruation—not really something he needed on quite a few levels.

Sex on a full-moon night was supposedly incredibly risky, and he had yet to try it. The day before was also fraught, but he had managed without any major issues so far. Strangely the day after could be worse, particularly if he didn't have an especially satisfactory run. Then he would be left with an overdose of feral energy that was hard to control. Considering the fight he'd had with the strange werewolves under the full moon, Seth was pretty confident that he had worn down the worst of his edges, but because it was Becky he still worried. 

Since Roman and Dean were in the house, they kept it quick and mostly quiet, and Becky was still sprawled across the bed, catching her breath. As much as she teased him about his wolfish energy, she had more than enough to burn herself, and he knew some of that was anger at being excluded. It was something they would have to talk about, but it was hardly fair to bring it up just after sex. She was taking longer than usual to move, though, so Seth got back on the bed, running a hand over her leg. "You okay? I wasn't too rough or anything?"

Burying her face in her pillow, Becky made a sound somewhere between a giggle and a contented purr. "All good. I just need to be able to feel my legs again, and then I'll need a cold shower." A shiver made her shoulders bunch up as Seth's hands moved up her thighs to her ass. "That's not helping, you know."

"I'm just making sure you don't have any scratches, that's all." Seth kissed his way down her back. "If Roman thinks I've hurt you, I'll never hear the end of it."

Becky turned onto her side to look at him. "So it's just an examination, is that it? Not 'playing doctor' or whatever that American saying is?" When his hand started to slide between her legs again, she caught it. "We can't stay in here all day. Roman and Dean are here—"

" _I'm ordering in pizza and putting it on your card, Rollins!"_ Dean's bellow carried through the bedroom door before knocking. "Irish, you good with a veg?"

"Yes, please," Becky called back, grabbing Seth's wrists when his hands kept wandering. 

"Cool, cool. Rollins, let your girlfriend out of bed already. We want to hang out with her too." After a moment, Dean added. "You can stay up here, though. Means more pizza for me."

Seth nuzzled Becky's neck and laughed, listening for Dean's receding footsteps. "He's gone," he announced. "Hey, listen, if they bug you—"

"Roman and Dean?" Becky rolled her eyes as she sat up. "We're all good. They know how far they can push and they don't go further, and I bug them right back. It's just like having my brother around, but without the accent." She grimaced a bit as she stood, stretching her arms high above her head until she caught Seth staring. "God, stop it!" She was laughing as she grabbed clean clothes from her bag, though. "I got dibs on the shower. I'll be quick."

"No rush. I can go use another one." Seth only grabbed a pair of workout shorts: he was warm most of the time anyway, but especially right around a full moon. Since he could hear Dean and Roman were downstairs, he didn't bother getting dressed as he went across the hall to the guest bathroom; he could have ducked into Becky's room and used hers, but he didn't want to get distracted if she came in. The cold water felt like being sliced open diamond-sharp knives, but he forced himself to stay under the frigid spray until his heart rate was back to normal and his libido was sufficiently muted. He was even shivering when he stepped out of the shower, though he knew from experience that it would pass soon enough. After winding his wet hair up into a bun, Seth dried off, put on his shorts, and headed downstairs.

_Why do I even bother having a dining room?_ It was something Seth had asked himself more than once. He never really used it, but when he bought his house it seemed like something appropriately adult to have. At the moment, the designer table held only an abstract vase filled with some strange artificial twigs that Paige had picked out as a housewarming gift. He found his friends in the living room, of course, plates and napkins for pizza stacked on the coffee table. Roman was checking football scores on one of the sports channels, Dean was texting, and Becky was curled up on the couch with a pillow hugged to her chest, probably trying to warm up again after her cold shower. "When's the pizza coming?" he asked, settling in by Becky and pulling her legs across his lap.

Dean barely looked up from his phone. "Should be here in fifteen. Enough time for you to fill in the redheaded stepchildren about what your next step is."

Seth winced at the reminder of how his mother had treated Becky—and Dean too, to a degree. If Dean had forced the point, Holly probably would have included him, but it was obvious that she preferred Roman to him. "Mom gave me some contact information for cousins, uncles, that sort of thing, so I'm going to try calling some tomorrow. Other than that, I don't know. I can't exactly trust anything I find online."

Becky reached over and stroked his cheek. "Well, we have about a month before the next full moon. I know that's not a long time, but at least you don't have to worry about a repeat until then." Her toes curled a bit as he started massaging her calves; Seth could be fidgety when talking about werewolf matters, so he always tried to do something with his hands. "Did you get the impression that. . . ." She paused and rubbed her chin, looking both frustrated and sheepish. "I know this will sound stupid, but what the hell: Did you get the sense that they wanted something from you? That they were there for you, or did they just happen to be there when you were there?"

His first instinct was to say something like _I was a little too busy fighting for my life to ask_ , but he knew it was a serious question and that Becky was asking it for a reason. "I don't know," Seth said at last. "I've never met another werewolf—not that I know of, anyway. I don't know what's normal. It runs in families, so you're supposed to be taught as you grow up and I obviously didn't get that—" He stopped himself before he let his frustration out and undid all the calmness the sex and the cold shower had brought him. "They didn't . . . feel familiar in any way, whatever that means."

"I just thought they were maybe tracking you somehow. Full moons don't always land on nights when you can be home." Becky's voice sounded distant, and as soon as Seth saw her looking at the football ticker, he knew something was up, because she didn't care for most team sports at all. "Maybe you left some hair—or fur—behind at a hotel or something and another werewolf noticed it and got curious. I don't know."

"It's possible." Roman flopped down in an armchair and changed the television to a music channel before setting the remote control aside."I know you try to be super careful when you're cleaning up, but it's impossible to get every little hair."

"Or maybe someone saw you," Becky added. "I know you check the forest first all the time, but there's so much space to cover. Someone could have a birding camera set up and it would be too small to spot. They could have got video of you changing. . . ." Her grip on the pillow tightened, nails plucking the threads like guitar strings. "Or if you ever drove out in a rental and it had a dash cam. . . ."

"Hey." Roman and Dean were right there, but it didn't stop Seth from pulling Becky onto his lap and cupping her face with his hands. "Stop it. There's no need to be paranoid. It's nothing. I'm sure of it. I'll make some calls tomorrow and—"

And then the world went a sickly yellow, blotting out everything but the fact that there was a warm, tender human body on his lap, in his hands—paws?—just waiting to be devoured. A sharp scream deepened the yellow to an amber gold, ancient and refined, and warmth spilled over his claws even as something kicked at his gut.

_Seth! Stop!_

What did _Seth_ mean? What was _Stop_? Those weren't wolf words.

The warmth was torn away from him and there was another scream, more of a shriek and a sob rolled into one, and the terror in it bled through into the amber, leaving veins of crimson that wormed into his gut and resurrected his hunger. He hadn't run enough. The fight hadn't been enough. He had been called back too quickly and the wolf demanded its due.

_Seth!_

_Dean, don't!_

The warmth passed him in a gust, a swoop, drawn back by an energy that was as sturdy as a redwood tree. Then pain sliced into him, like the knives of cold water but solid, radiating out from his jaw. The howl that tore out of his mouth felt like it was trying to pry his jaw apart completely, hauling up his guts like a bucket of water from a deep well. When he kicked out, his knees cracked.

_Becky, STAY BACK!_

The warmth rushed forward again, only to be pulled away, and he reached for it desperately. There was softness there; he could sense it. If only he could grab it, bury himself in it, the agony would end.

_That's still Seth!_

A loud buzzing, then, followed by knocking. _Fucking shit. The one time the pizza dude is early!_ Slamming, metal clicking, voices now hushed. And then the blood-marbled amber gave way to misty grey, and the wolf won.


	5. Chapter 5

Seth had woken up with his wrists bound to a bed before, but he usually remembered some of the events that had landed him there. This time his mind was a blank, so he tried walking his memory back. He could feel shorts twisted around his hips, so he wasn't naked; it probably hadn't been sexual then. His ankles were tied down as well, but none of the bonds cut off his circulation; whoever fastened them knew what they were doing and didn't want to harm him. The sharp smell of wolf-tinted sweat hit his nose and he grimaced. The full moon was at least a day ago; why hadn't he showered yet?

As he thought his way through sensory details, Seth kept blinking his eyes until they cleared and he saw his basement retreat, what Becky called 'the wolf room'. He had just been there recently, hadn't he? He remembered someone walking him in, stroking his ears and saying that someone would be in the house waiting for him. "Hello?" he croaked, looking around to see if he could spot anyone. Someone should be there. He remembered voices in the SUV, arms wrapped around him. Sex when he was human again, hungry and demanding. "Becky?"

"Don't, Becks." That voice was an instant balm, solid and reassuring, and a moment later, Roman was at his side. "Hey, bro. Sorry about the ropes. We didn't want to take any chances."

"What happened?" Seth tried to lift his head, but with the way his arms were tied down, he couldn't move far off the Murphy bed's mattress. "What did I do?"

The subtle sorrow in Roman's eyes made Seth's gut clench. He would rather anger Roman than upset him. "What do you remember?" Roman asked gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"We . . . came home. From my mom's?" They had been there for a reason, but Seth couldn't think of it at the moment. "We got here. Becky and I. . . ." When he glanced over at Roman, his friend rolled his eyes and made a _continue_ motion with his hand. "Then . . . cold. A shower? There was pizza . . . or going to be pizza?" He gave the air a tentative sniff, but he couldn't smell any of the traditional scents; something else was in the air, tickling his nose, but he couldn't quite place it. "We were talking about the attack. . . ."

_Attack_. The word lanced through him and hooked his heart, making him go shock still. Out in the forest, he had been attacked by other werewolves. Dean and Becky had too. And then here, in his home, in front of his friends, he had attacked—

"Becky. Where's Becky? Is she okay?" Seth struggled against the ropes that kept him down, but he caught a glimpse of his right hand and saw dark red flaking and cracking along his fingers. _Blood. Not mine._ Now that he had seen it, it was all he could smell, and the thoughts it brought to mind made him want to vomit. " _Where is—_ "

"She's here," Roman said softly. "What else do you remember?"

"I hurt her." Each word felt like trying to swallow an ice cube and having it lodge in his throat. "I hurt her, didn't I? But . . . as me, right? I hadn't wolfed out yet, right? Roman, tell me, please. What did I do?" A hundred different possibilities ravaged his mind, each worse than the last. He and Becky had just been fucking not even half an hour before they were all sitting in the living room. What would he have done if something happened then, with Dean and Roman too far away to hear, let alone help?

"Roman, tell him." It was Dean's voice and there was a strain in it Seth had never heard before. "We need to know what to do."

"Stop talking around me. I'm right here." Seth's heart leapt as soon as he heard Becky's voice, but it held a hint of wrongness too, as if she were trying to talk with marbles in her mouth.

Roman stood and walked past the foot of the bed; Seth could barely see his silhouette. "Becky, you shouldn't be in here. Wait upstairs. I'll ask Seth what to do and then Dean can go get—" Then Roman swore and Seth saw a sudden wave of reddish orange.

_Becky._ She could talk and she could move. She was okay. She would be okay. His breathing started to slow again. If she was okay, then he would be okay.

"Irish, don't. . . ." Dean sounded worried too, which was unlike him. Seth didn't know him to sweat much of anything, unless it involved Renee.

"Please. Just let me hug him and then I'll go sit upstairs, I promise." After the sound of feet shuffling across the floor, Becky finally emerged at his bedside. "Hey. Welcome back."

From the shoulders down, Becky looked fine; ditto from the nose up. Her jaw and neck, though, were pocked with gouges, each crusted with blood. There was no part of a human that could make wounds shaped like those. A wolf's claws, though. . . .

"No. . . ." If Seth had thought his shower earlier was cold, the dread moving through him was downright glacial: slow, heavy, freezing. "Becks, I didn't . . . I'm so sorry."

"I know." Before Roman or Dean could stop her, Becky leaned over and hugged him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You weren't fully transformed, so I'll be fine, right?" Both her voice and her smile quavered. "I'll just need to put something on them and bandage them up. . . ."

Roman reappeared at Becky's shoulder. "I called your mom quick. Fibbed and said you had discovered a bite wound on your leg. Whether she bought it or not, I don't know, but she said something about you having a jar of manuka honey somewhere and that it would help. . . ."

"Anti-bacterial. Anti-inflammatory." Dean listed off the honey's purported health benefits. "Anti-lycanthropy? We'll have to see."

" _Dean_." Roman's voice was more of an axe than a knife, and his stony expression was painful to see on a face that was usually so quick to smile.

"Clear jar with a black label," Seth replied. "In my linen closet. Becky knows where that is." He tried to reach for her hand, but Roman had already pulled her back. A moment later, he heard the basement door open and close, and the room became unbearably quiet. "Roman, please, go help her. I'm fine here. You need . . . she needs help."

"Seth." Roman sat down on the bed again. "If she's infected, then she's infected. It's been over an hour and we had no idea what to do. Dean and I helped clean up her wounds a bit, but no regular anti-biotic is going to do anything for her. I went through whatever notes of yours I could find, but there was nothing on how to stop the effects of a werewolf bite or scratch."

Once again Seth thought back to earlier that day, though not in the pleasant way he would otherwise. How often did he playfully bite Becky during sex or dig his fingers into her thighs or ass so hard he left marks? If he lost control in the heat of the moment—and he was lucky enough not to kill her—he could tear her open without even meaning to. _Maybe this is what my mom was so worried about,_ he thought. He'd had other girlfriends—even a fiancée—but he had never dared doing much around the full moon. Becky made him forget. She made him want and fantasize and wonder.

And now her face and neck were clawed up because he lost control.

It couldn't happen again. Not to anyone, but especially not to her. It was gutting to think that he had split up from previous girlfriends because his secret had driven a wedge between them, and now he had Becky, who knew about his nature and was doing everything she could to help, and he still might suffer the same fate. _I don't want to lose her,_ he thought, slumping back against the bed. "And I can't exactly ask my mom, because she'll blame it on Becky. I'll have to start calling my relatives." He tugged experimentally at the ropes around his wrists. "How long are you keeping me in these?"

Roman's eyes were dark with despair. "I don't know, man. One minute you were fine and just sitting on the couch, and then you were trying to tear Becky's face off. I don't know if that's going to happen again or when. I can bring you your phone but for now, until you feel more stable, I think you should stay in here. How's your head?"

It would be so easy to lie. Seth had seen wrestlers fib their way through medical evaluations so they could be cleared to compete. But he couldn't risk putting his friends in jeopardy. "A little fuzzy," he admitted. "But I don't remember feeling anything out of the ordinary before I . . . did whatever, so that doesn't mean too much, does it?" Guilt and worry soured in his stomach.

"I'll come back with some reheated pizza and your phone," Roman promised as he stood. "And I'll check on Becky, but Rollins. . . ."He shook his head slowly, as if deeply conflicted. "You can't ask her to stay. Because she will, and it's not fair to her to constantly be worrying about whether you're going to wolf out on her. If something's happened and you can't control this, you have to step aside—because she won't. She's stubborn as hell, so you'll have to be the one to break it off."

_Break it off._ The very idea of it rattled around in his head, sharp and sudden. He'd been attracted to Becky from the very start, making do with casual hook-ups with her until they were both ready for something more. He wasn't ready to let her go; he didn't know if he ever would be. "I know. I know." Seth shut his eyes and sighed. "If I'm sleeping when you get back, just wake me up."

Roman patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, man. She's like a sister to us. We'll do everything we possibly can for her. Just rest and focus on staying human."

This time when the basement door closed, Seth welcomed the silence. There were few cardinal rules he followed as a werewolf, but not hurting humans was one of them, and now he had injured someone incredibly close to him. Even if Becky recovered without a hint of lycanthropy, he would never forgive himself. How could he trust himself around her again? How could he touch her again without worrying about his claws coming out?

By the time Roman returned, Seth was almost dozing, but he woke quickly. "How is she?" he asked immediately. It was an instinct to sit up, to try running to the door to go to her, but his bonds kept him firmly in place.

Roman wouldn't quite meet his gaze. "She keeps saying they don't hurt," he reported, "but the wound sites are starting to look inflamed. I'm trying to think of anyone who knows a doctor who can be trusted to keep quiet."

Seth swore at himself. "And say what? There's nothing else that could have made those marks but claws. Are you going to say she tried to hug a lion and the lion said no?"

"I don't know, man. I'm trying to think of something that helps both of you, or at least doesn't harm either of you. But this werewolf stuff is your world, not mine." Roman shook his head. "I don't know how to navigate it. None of the other werewolves I know have heard of. . . ."

_Your world, not mine._ Substitute _mess_ for _world_ and it would be even more true. Becky was suffering for Seth's lapse in control and Dean and Roman were trying to fix things, and meanwhile Seth was tied up in his own basement because he couldn't be trusted not to hurt some of the people he loved the most. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "You have to know I didn't want any of this. I would never hurt Becky on purpose. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I never wanted to be a werewolf. I—"

"Seth. I know." Roman leaned down and hugged him before untying his wrists. "No offence, but we're going to keep your ankles tied to be safe. You'll be able to slash through them if your claws come out, but that will at least buy me some time to get to the door, you know?"

"Understood." Seth fought the urge to rub his wrists as soon as they were free. Roman had made sure there was a bit of give, so Seth's hands weren't completely numb. He still sat up gingerly, though, and gratefully accepted a bottle of water and a plate heaped with pizza slices. 

"Dean said to tell you he picked all the bacon off your pieces," Roman said with a smile, sitting beside Seth.

"Of course he did. Asshole." Seth forced himself to finish a whole piece before asking about Becky, and it made chewing feel like a chore. "When can I see her? I need to apologize."

Roman met his gaze solemnly. "She knows you didn't mean it," he assured Seth. "But . . . I don't know if seeing her is the best thing for you. Maybe you two had sex too quickly after the full moon or after the fight and it triggered some wolf hormone in you or something." A warm, if slightly sad, smile stretched his lips. "She keeps asking about you, though. Keeps telling me to check the room temperature, because you don't like it too hot, and to make sure you have water." Then he patted Seth's shoulder again. "She's a keeper, Seth. Don't fuck this up."

"Again, you mean. Don't fuck this up _again_." Because that was what he did, wasn't it? He found a way to ruin every relationship, so it made a twisted sort of sense that his wolf would attack the one woman he had entrusted with his secret. "Don't worry. If I get the chance, I won't."

He had never had a bigger _if_ in his life.


	6. Chapter 6

Seth heard the vehicle first, of course, so none of the others quite understood his sigh of relief. "He didn't bring a corporate fleet car," he said, rubbing his hands on his thighs. "That's a good sign, right? That means he's coming as Hunter and . . . and not the COO or anything like that."

Roman didn't seem quite as convinced. "They're one and the same, bro. He never really shuts one off, you know?" But then he gave an appreciative nod as well. "Sounds like a motorcycle, though. He couldn't have ridden his own bike, though. That would take about half a day from Connecticut to here, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe he's got a secret stash of motorcycles all over the country," Dean suggested. "So he can make a hasty retreat if Steph ever gets too angry." He was still eating his breakfast, since his morning call to Renee had run late due to time zone confusion. Seth was on his third cup of coffee, leaving Roman as the only prepared one.

Seth glanced towards the stairs. Becky was still in the shower, taking longer than usual to get ready. Roman had let her visit Seth before she went to bed the night before, but Seth had spent the night in the wolf room. _At least he took the ropes off so I could sleep_ , Seth thought, rubbing his wrists absently. The skin around his tattoo was especially cranky. "She's not coming down, is she? She's worried that Hunter's going to be mad, so she figures if he doesn't see—" Seth stopped suddenly, snorting out a frustrated breath. He had hurt her. It hadn't been intentional, but that didn't matter. He had to accept it—and all the consequences that followed.

"I'll go knock on her door again." Roman patted Seth's shoulder as he stood and headed for the stairs, but it was small comfort. Even his wording said it all: _her room_ , not _your room_. Becky had started out her stay at Seth's house in his bed—their bed, as far as he was concerned, but he didn't want to push—and now she was in the guest bedroom she had chosen for when they were trying to be discreet.

"Hey, man." To Seth's surprise, Dean came up and hugged him. "She's doing it for you, you know. She probably thinks it'll be easier on you if her scent's not all over your stuff or whatever. It's not a rejection or anything." He reached for the box of sugary cereal that had been his contribution to the grocery cart and held it out. "Eat your feelings?" he suggested. 

The rumble of the motorcycle was slowly fading now; if it was Hunter—and Seth was fairly certain it was—he would be approaching the front door any second. "I'm good, thanks." Except he wasn't at all. He _liked_ having Becky's scent on his sheets when he woke up without her there. He liked finding the little things she had forgotten as she was packing up: a bottle of her shampoo in the shower, her sunglasses in his car, underwear under the bed. It reminded him that he finally been brave enough to make a space for her in his life and she was willing to use it. More importantly, she was happy to; she had made adjustments to her routine too, being mindful of how strongly scented her shampoo and body wash were so they didn't annoy his sensitive nose.

"Suit yourself. More unicorns for me!" Dean reached into the box and grabbed a handful. "And some for Becky, I guess. Have you tried the Lucky Charms line on her yet? Does she take it well or do you get a faceful of fist?"

Seth pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel Hunter approaching, all coiled energy and authoritarian power, and it made him feel like a teenager again, apologizing for what he had thought were mistakes but were really just things out of his control at the time. "I don't usually have it in the house," Seth replied, "so it hasn't come up in conversation."

Dean just grinned. "Good thing I got some then, eh? Get it out of the way early, before the wedding. Don't want cereal souring a perfectly good union."

When the doorbell rang, Seth shut his eyes, and not just because the noise felt like someone had heaped a dozen sandbags on his shoulders. He had hoped Roman would be back down before Hunter arrived, bringing some calm to the situation. Dean didn't look at all inclined to get the door, so Seth gritted his teeth and went to the front of the house, checking the security screen just to be sure. Hunter's face, mostly impassive, loomed in the viewer, and Seth opened the door just as Hunter was about to raise his fist and knock. "Hey, Hunter. Thanks for coming out."

"You know, Rollins, most doctors don't even make house calls anymore. I should be summoning you to _my_ house, not the other way around." Hunter stepped inside and looked around. "Where is everyone? It looks too clean for Dean to be here."

Dean poked his head around a corner, shaking the cereal box like a castanet. "I got a late start. Don't worry. Havoc will be wreaked later." Then he tipped the box towards Hunter. "Cereal?"

Hunter tipped his head to the side. "Seriously, Ambrose? My kids don't even eat that shit and they're _kids_." He glanced around again before meeting Seth's gaze. "So where are the other two?" he asked, already sounding exasperated. "I'm going to have to start giving Roman danger pay for putting up with you all."

"Hey, Hunter." Roman loped down the stairs easily. "Thanks for coming. Seth has some other business to attend to today, but this was something that really shouldn’t be discussed over the phone." He shook his head when Dean raised the cereal box. "There were two incidents, really, but one doesn't have any bearing on WWE—"

But Hunter wasn't so easily swayed. "Where's Lynch?" he said flatly. "I know you two are an item." He glared briefly at Seth; intra-roster relationships weren't forbidden, but they could make schedules delicate if a couple broke up in a messy fashion. Some of the odd roster shifts fans had complained about had been arranged to separate unfriendly exes. "And I know you two have the same flight schedules, so don't even try to hide it."

Roman straightened up to his full height and stood at Seth's side. "She was involved in the second incident. But you need some context, so if you would just let us explain—"

"Reigns, don't. You have kids. You should know that burying the lead never works." Then Hunter walked past them all and stood on the bottom stair. "LYNCH!" he yelled. "Get your ass down here!"

All three members of The Shield shared a similarly cowed look. They were all adults—grown-ass adults, as Dean would say—but Hunter had the uncanny ability to make them feel like troublesome children. "She's coming," Roman said softly, more for Seth than Hunter. "And as a dad, I know this line almost never works, but . . . it looks worse than it is."

"Oh, great." Hunter stepped back from the stairs when he heard movement up above, but it wasn't long before he was moving forward again, his expression caught somewhere between concern and outrage. "Becky, what happened to your face?" The look he turned on Seth was pure condemnation. "Did you—?"

" _No._ All three Shield members said it at the same time, just a beat behind Becky herself, who made her way down the stairs slowly. It killed Seth a bit to not see her bounding freely through his home like it was her own. "Let Roman explain the full-moon night stuff first," Becky said, gingerly touching her jaw, which was currently swaddled in gauze. It made her look like she had a soft white beard. "Then this will make sense."

" _Make sense?_ " Like an overprotective father, Hunter stood in front of her, blocking her from the others' view. "Becky, if something happened, you know Steph and I will take the appropriate actions."

Seth lurched to move forward, to intervene, but Roman stopped him with one arm and a shake of his head. "Don't, man," Roman said softly. "I know the accusation sucks and it must hurt to hear, but it's better to get it out of the way now."

Roman's cautionary words meant Seth lost much of what Hunter and Becky had been saying, but since Hunter hadn't punched him yet, Seth figured he was at least open to hearing the whole story. After hugging Becky tightly, Hunter turned to face the other three. "There better be a really good explanation, Rollins. And I mean _really_ good, because there's no way Becky can wrestle like this. We can't even have her appear at events or signings."

"It's not that bad!" Seth winced when she said it. There was nothing to say in a situation like this that didn't sound trite or fake. Before he could apologize again, Becky was reaching up to touch her bandages. "Honestly, the make-up crew is amazing. They'll be able to cover it up and . . . and you could always have something in the storyline to explain a jaw injury. The manuka honey must be doing something, because the swelling's mostly down and it barely even hurts anymore."

_It barely even hurts anymore._ Seth clenched his jaw and turned away, pacing in a tight circle until Roman turned him back around to face Becky. She had peeled her gauze away from the left side of her face to show Hunter her wounds. Becky could say all she wanted about it not being that bad or it not hurting much, but all Seth could see was dried blood and angry punctures.

For a moment, Seth had wondered what Becky's reasoning was, showing her wounds before Hunter had even heard a word of explanation, but some of the tension in Hunter's shoulders gave way. "It was an accident," Becky said firmly, voice calm and clear. "Seth did nothing wrong."

The absolution should have made Seth feel better, but he couldn't shift his gaze from Becky's face. Dean would say that was nothing new, but normally Seth was staring at her because she was beautiful; now he couldn't look away from the damage he had caused. "C'mon, Hunter. I'll get you some coffee," Roman offered, nudging Seth out of the way. "Seth's got the good stuff."

"Fine." Hunter didn't follow Roman and Seth into the kitchen, though, not even as Dean trailed after them. He lingered at Becky's side, helping her refasten her bandage. "Are you sure you're okay?" Seth heard him ask in quiet tones. "You don't have to cover for him. If he can't control the wolf, then he's not safe to wrestle."

_Not safe to wrestle_. It was another gut punch. Losing control was bad enough, especially when he had fought and trained for so many years to keep his wolf in check. Hurting Becky and the prospect of losing her was devastating. If he lost wrestling too, what would he have left? Roman gave him a gentle shove towards the coffee cupboard before pulling down some mugs. "Roman, what am I going to do?" he hissed, nearly collapsing over the island. "I've messed up _everything_. . . ."

"Hey." Roman leaned close and patted Seth's back. "We just have to tell Hunter what happened. He's a reasonable guy. Somewhere in the back of his head, he must have known your control could slip eventually. He knows you would never intentionally hurt Becky. And before you say anything, she knows that too."

Seth nodded, but it all felt hollow. It was good that Becky knew he hadn't meant to hurt her, but that didn't change the reality of what happened. Next time, Roman and Dean might not be there; next time, they might be alone and Seth might not be able to stop himself. How much could Becky be expected to put up with? How much could happen before her friends would start to worry that she was being abused? "Coffee," Seth said with a shuddering breath. "Coffee will help, right? Right." The busywork of it did, at least: setting the water to boil, measuring out the grounds, lining up the cups. "If I have to quit wrestling," he quipped darkly, "I could become a barista. I know of at least one café that would have me."

"Dude, there's not enough room for two mopey asses in The Shield," Dean said. "You'll need to find a different gimmick, okay?" Then he gave Seth another unexpected hug. "Honestly, though, stop worrying. We'll find a way to make things work. It's what we do." He held out his fist Shield-style, stepping to the side a bit so Roman could do the same. "Believe that?"

"Hey, that's my line." But Roman was smiling as he added his fist to the circle, and after some coaxing, Seth finished the triad.

Hunter and Becky entered the kitchen just as The Shield was breaking their circle. Gauze back in place, Becky hopped up on one of the island's stools and grabbed a cinnamon bun from the plate. "The coffee smells good," she said, leaning her elbows on the counter.

"Your favourite." Seth had arranged the mugs so she would get the largest, and once the coffee was ready, he poured hers first. "No foam art, though," he added as he set it in front of her.

"That’s okay. I'll—get some on the way to the airport." The words she said were shaped around the ones she had stopped herself from saying: _I'll live_. On any other day, it would be a response no one would think twice about. With her glaring white gauze bandages in full view, though, and claw marks not far from her jugular, it didn't have the same casual ring. Once Seth was finished serving coffee, he sat on the stool beside her, which everyone else had left open for him by default.

"So now we have coffee," Hunter said. "Who's going to start explaining? Reigns, you weren't in the forest, so not you. Seth, you were presumably a wolf for most of the time, so I don't know how much you'll remember. That leaves Becky and Dean."

Seth was about to protest that it wouldn't be fair to Becky to make her rehash that, but Dean started recounting the attack easily and with surprisingly clinical accuracy. He finished by showing Hunter his bandaged arm. "I'll get the company docs to look at it," he said before Hunter could comment. "I just wanted to make sure it wasn't broken. Well, Becky did. Credit where it's due." He nodded in Becky's direction. "She did all the after-the-fact driving."

"And we all lived to tell the tale," Becky replied. "It's a miracle." She reached up to scratch at her jaw but stopped herself when her fingers found gauze instead of skin.

"Okay." Hunter looked like he was keeping notes in his head. "So then you switched back in some wolf-proof room here,—right, Seth? Then the next day, Roman flew in and you went to visit your mother to learn more about your werewolf relatives. Then you came back here. . . ."

"And I settled into my room. Becky and Seth went upstairs. Dean called for pizza and then probably called Renee, because he calls her about three times a day," Roman supplied.

Hunter raised an eyebrow as he finished his coffee. "Translation: Becky and Seth had sex and the two of you," he said, gesturing to Roman and Dean, "gave them some time."

The four friends shrugged in almost perfect synchronization. "Pretty much," Roman said with a sigh. He must have been anticipating Hunter's next comment as much as Seth was.

"Even though it was just a full-moon night and your control is questionable directly before and after." Hunter met each of their gazes in turn. "And?"

Seth forced himself to set down his coffee cup so he couldn't break it. "And then we were sitting on the couch and I had cupped her face in my hands to kiss her, but everything . . . twisted." He shut his eyes, trying to think of the best way to describe the sensations. "Everything went yellow and _intense_. . . ."

The explanation clearly wasn't doing much for Hunter, because he looked to Dean and Roman instead. "What did you see?"

Roman casually reached over and squeezed Becky's hand. "His hands shifted and his claws . . . dug in. His eyes started turning a bit too. I pulled Becky away from him as soon as I could."

"And I hit him with one of the end tables." Dean, to his credit, reported that with only a hint of pride. 

Seth allowed himself a small laugh as he rubbed his jaw. It had been sore when he woke up the first time; now he knew why. "That explains some things."

Dean just shrugged and chased a mouthful of cereal down with his coffee. "I wanted to keep you in suspense. The table's fine, by the way. Your ugly mug didn't break it."

"Well, now I'll be able to rest easy." Seth reached over and gave Becky's free hand a quick squeeze. "I've been fine since."

Hunter pointed at Becky's wrapped jaw. "What have you been putting on that? Some weird werewolf salve or something?"

Roman shook his head, reaching across the island to collect the cups that were empty. "Manuka honey. There wasn't much about werewolf bites and scratches in the notes Seth has, but we called his mom—and yes, we lied and said it was for Seth—and she said to try manuka honey. So far, it's definitely helping with the swelling, and the wounds seem to be closing up."

"I'm fine to wrestle, Hunter, I swear." Becky took a deep breath. "At this rate, it should clear up in a week, two at most—"

"I thought that’s how werewolves infected humans: with bites and scratches." And there it was, the looming possibility everyone else had been trying to avoid. "How will you know you're fine until there's another full moon?"

Seth squeezed her hand again. "I should only be able to infect someone if I'm fully transformed, and I wasn't. It was only my hands and . . . my face, I guess. She should be fine."

"You _should_ only be able to infect someone if you're fully transformed. She _should_ be fine." Hunter shook his head. "That's a lot of _should_ s, Seth. It's not exactly like I can send Becky somewhere to get tested. Hell, paying off doctors to hide _your_ abnormalities is practically a full-time job. Costs as much as one, at least."

"Hunter." Roman planted both hands on the island, flexing his fingers. "Okay, as a dad, I know this is flimsy as hell but . . . we called you. We told you. We've been honest. Becky has shown you her wounds. We're being as open as possible here. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Sure, Roman, if this was something simple, it would count. But this has potentially _fatal_ implications. What if Seth loses control again, but this time it's in the middle of a ring—in front of a live audience or worse, a televised audience. Then there's _proof_." Hunter counted off worst-case scenarios on his fingers the way some people went through their to-do list for the day. "What if Becky is infected but we don't know it and _she_ transforms in the middle of the ring, or at a charity event? Having Seth wrestle has always been a risk, but a controlled one. Now that control is no longer assured. I have to think of the safety of everyone on the roster."

Seth nodded solemnly. "I understand that. If you want to keep me out of action for a month to make sure I'm not a danger, I get it, but please don't punish Becky."

"Rollins, it's not a punishment. It's a precaution." Words flew back and forth, volume rising as the discussion heated up into a debate. The louder it got, the more Becky seemed to shrink, huddling over her coffee. While Roman tried to keep the peace, Dean quietly slipped over to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "ENOUGH!" Hunter boomed, standing so suddenly his stool clattered to the floor and startled everybody, even himself. "I get it, Rollins. I do. Emotionally, I get it and I feel bad for you. But in terms of business, I have to look out for _everyone_ under my roof, not just you. I'll make some discreet inquiries, and you know I'll have to fill Steph in."

They all grimaced at that. Even when he was being tough, Hunter still had a fatherly quality, a holdover from his time with them in NXT. Stephanie didn't have any maternal instincts when it came to the wrestlers. "And?" Seth knew there was always that little bit more.

Hunter laced his fingers behind his head and paced around the kitchen, making the generous room feel small; there was too much volatile energy swirling around, and Seth could feel himself starting to tense up. "And I have to do _something_ , whether I want to or not. Seth, you're out of action this week for sure, maybe next week. I doubt I'll find any werewolf experts that can give me a definitive answer, but I'll try."

"And me?" Becky's voice was the opposite of the fallen stool—soft, quiet, steady—but it was just as shocking in its own way. "What happens to me?"

"I want you to go to a doctor and get checked. Just tell them . . . you were attacked by a dog or something. It will explain the claw wounds, anyway." Hunter rubbed his chin thoughtfully, ever the cerebral assassin. "But you're out of action until after the next full moon, just to be safe." The Shield erupted in protest, but Hunter continued on, holding Becky's gaze. "We'll have you film some promos or something, maybe a sneak attack on Charlotte or something and then we'll say you're suspended indefinitely. We'll have to cancel all your signings and appearances too, just to be safe." Then he cleared his throat and took a step back. "Obviously I can't control what you do on your own time, but if it involves WWE in any way," he declared, "I don't want you two travelling together. No shared hotel rooms—and yes, that includes 'visits'."

"What?" Seth stood too, though Roman quickly stepped to his side and stopped him from moving forward. "When we call you _Dad_ , you know we're all joking, right? This is ridiculous!"

"Is it?" Hunter moved over to Becky's side and pointed at her gouged jaw. "Is that what that is, Seth? Ridiculous? That's not what I'd call it. I'd call that _careless_. The fact remains that we still don't know what made you turn the way you did and we don't know what side effects Becky's going to have, so call it ridiculous if you want, but when you're on my turf, you're keeping your distance from each other so you don't accidentally trigger some werewolf reaction."

Seth turned to Roman and shot him a look. "Roman, this is bullshit."

Roman shook his head slowly. "I think the world of you and Becky. You know I do. But I also see Hunter's point. He has to look out for the whole roster, and both of you are unknown variables right now. It's not forever, man. It's just until we find out some answers. Then you'll be back in the ring burning it down and everything will be good again."

"We hope." Seth desperately wanted to storm off, but he forced himself to stay where he was. It wasn't fair to make his friends bear the brunt of Hunter's lecture in his stead. "Fine. But . . . when Becky's cleared, guarantee her a title match. She deserves it anyway, and none of this is remotely her fault. She was only trying to help me."

_And look how she was rewarded._ Seth's inner voice was snide. _Pretty soon she's going to wish she hooked up with someone else instead. She and Cesaro look pretty good together, come to think of it. . . ._ He shook his head so sharply that everyone looked at him with concern.

"Seth, man, you okay?" Roman's grip on his shoulder was a reassuring weight.

"Yeah. I'm just . . . tired. A normal full moon can drain me, but this. . . ." Seth let the sentence dangle. Everyone there knew what had happened; there was no reason to keep saying it except to punish him.

"Lynch, a word?" Hunter motioned for Becky to follow him and, after glancing back at The Shield, she picked up her coffee cup and went with Hunter into the living room. Even with their voices lowered, Seth could make out what they were saying, but he forced himself not to listen. 

Roman shook his shoulder again, but Seth barely budged. "Seth, stop it. We're going to work everything out, okay? We got you."

Dean wordlessly held out his fist again and so did Roman, but when Seth added his to the circle, it was hard to see his friends and not just two more lives that he was likely to derail.


	7. Chapter 7

One month, give or take. That was the amount of time between full moons. Seth remembered seeing an article that suggested Western calendars had a general thirty-day structure because women used to use the moon to track their menstrual cycles. He hadn't thought much about it at the time, but now he wondered if werewolves possibly had something to do with it too. After all, if you lived your life from moon to moon, you would have a vested interest in tracking it with reasonable accuracy.

There were roughly two weeks left until the next full moon, and Seth could already feel his wolf gnawing on this thoughts—and there were plenty of those to chew on. His lapse in control was bad enough, making him second guess every sharp word he said, every time his temper started to flare up. This month, though, he was worrying about Becky as well. So far she hadn't exhibited any signs of wolfishness, but he was being as vigilant as he could be without annoying her—and without violating Hunter's request to keep some space between them. The last was almost unbearable. Since he was normally so careful around the full moon, Seth usually let himself enjoy the weeks in between. Now he could barely hug his girlfriend without being monitored. 

Even though she had been kept out of action for two weeks straight, Becky was still travelling to as many shows as she could. "Cutting promos is better than nothing," she told Seth in Catering. Roman was sitting with them, partially as a chaperon, no doubt. "Suspension storylines are the worst. Why couldn't I just fake an injury? I already had the bandages." She said the last part quickly; no one liked reminding Seth of his lapse.

"Hey, Becks." Charlotte cast a long shadow across the table. "Any idea when your suspension angle's going to be done? This is ridiculous. . . ."

Becky looked to Seth, who held up two fingers discreetly out of Charlotte's line of sight. "Probably another two weeks or so. Hunter said they're fine-tuning my next storyline."

"I hope it's not any longer than that: we haven't had a good fight in ages." Bayley appeared at Charlotte's side, tossing a water bottle from hand to hand. "Dibs on your first match back!"

Charlotte gave her a quick look. "Brat." Her glance intensified into a full-on stare, making Bayley shrug. "Didn't you have something you wanted to ask her? Before claiming her first match back, I mean."

"Oh! Right!" Bayley grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that. Yeah, Becks, do you have a minute? I have a question. . . ."

Becky nodded and rose slowly, casting the quickest of glances at Roman. It wasn't as if she couldn't go anywhere unaccompanied, but she was doing her best to be cautious. "Sure. Be right back, guys."

Charlotte barely waited until Bayley and Becky were across the room at the buffet table to claim Becky's chair. "Okay. What's going on? I've tried asking Becky and she won't tell me a damn thing." She glanced over to where her friends were standing. "Hunter just told me Becky had to be out of action for a bit, so we filmed that backstage attack, but Becky seemed . . . out of it or something. I don't know." Then her gaze went flinty as she turned it on Seth. "And she kept rubbing her jaw like it hurt. And just weeks ago, she couldn't get enough of you, and now the only time you're together is if Big Brother Roman is around."

As he had so many times in the past couple weeks, Roman spoke up before Seth could. "Charlotte, I swear to you, nothing's wrong with Becky. I know what you're probably thinking, and that's not what happened."

"Good. Because otherwise you'd have three very angry Horsewomen after you, Rollins." Charlotte relaxed a bit, but her worry for her best friend was still etched on her face. "So if it's not . . . that," she added, not even wanting to say it out loud, "then why are you two staying in different suites all the time?"

Seth stabbed his fork into his food so emphatically it lodged in the paper plate. _Ask Hunter_ , he wanted to say, but he kept quiet. If Hunter had even the slightest inkling that Seth was telling anyone else he was a werewolf, he might fire Seth outright, and Seth didn't know what he would do without wrestling. "It's private. . . ."

"Oh god. _Oh god_." Charlotte sat back in the chair so suddenly she almost tumbled to the floor. Since she was covering her mouth with her hands, Seth couldn't tell if she was excited, horrified, or enraged. Then she leaned close, lowered her voice, and whispered, "Does she think she might be pregnant?"

Roman masked his surprise with a sharp cough, leaving Seth to field the question. " _No._ " He answered with a confidence he didn't really feel. It was always a possibility, he supposed: condoms and birth control weren't guarantees, after all, and if Becky was pregnant, then the whole situation would be a hundred times worse. "No. It's for the storyline. I don't know. Hunter has something planned." Acting as if he knew a secret, he leaned closer to Charlotte and said, "I heard they might be trying a romance angle between her and Finn. You know, since they're both Irish, plus he was her mentor, which gives it that whole teacher¬–student vibe. So they can't really have her be seen coming out of my room—or vice versa—if they're trying to play up her and Finn together."

Charlotte nodded as she sat back, but she didn't seem wholly convinced. "But if she's supposed to be suspended," she added, "then why is she still coming on the road and hanging out backstage for most of the shows?"

"Hunter said they might want her to appear at any given moment," Roman offered. "You know how Creative likes changing things up. Hell, last week Vince was still changing things half an hour before we started taping." The reality was that Seth figured it was safer to keep close to Becky in case she did have any sudden werewolf symptoms, and since he was on the road, that meant she had to follow.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Then Charlotte glanced over at Finn, sitting a few tables over. "Isn't a little weird to be playing that angle now? Wouldn’t it have made more sense to do something like that back when Finn debuted?"

Seth just shrugged. "Who knows with Vince? Just . . . don't tell anyone, okay? It's still up in the air, and it's supposed to be a secret."

"Okay. I won't even tell the other girls. You know how things get around." Then Charlotte looked a bit sheepish. "Sorry for accusing you earlier. I just know how happy Becky was when the two of you finally started dating, so it seemed really weird that you were suddenly sleeping apart and all that."

"No worries. I'm glad you're looking out for her. But she and I are good." Seth hoped his smile didn't look as forced as it felt. "Just trying to figure out how to work things around the storyline. Hopefully Creative will get it sorted soon. I think it's pretty cheesy," he added with a chuckle, "but I'm obviously biased."

As if they planned it, Bayley was returning with Becky just as Charlotte rose from the table. "Hey, Becks. You have time for coffee later? It's been ages since we caught up," Charlotte said, hugging her friend close. Seth was half surprised that Charlotte didn't try to find a subtle way to put her hand on Becky's belly to feel for a potential kick.

Becky glanced briefly at Roman. "I have to check in with Creative later," she fibbed smoothly, "so it'll depend on how long that takes. I'll text you when I'm done."

_Creative's shouldering a lot of blame tonight,_ Seth thought as Charlotte and Bayley said their goodbyes and headed out. "Charlotte was asking about you," he said softly. "She basically accused me of hitting you, then asked if you were pregnant."

" _Oh god_." Becky sank back down in her chair and covered her face with her hands. "I love that woman to death, but _god almighty_." She shook her head as she laughed incredulously. "Sorry about that. She means well, but she's about as subtle as Hunter's sledgehammer. I'm guessing that's why she had Bayley pull me aside and ask me some bullshit questions about her new gear designs."

"But wait," Roman grinned, "there's more." He grabbed her coffee cup and his and headed to the drinks table to refill them both.

"More?" Becky self-consciously rubbed at her jaw. She claimed it had stopped hurting within days of the injury, but Seth had caught her wincing more than once.

Seth noticed Hunter walking through Catering and he caught his gaze before pointing to Roman. Hunter hadn't said anything about having a constant chaperon, but Seth wanted him to know that he was abiding by his ridiculous restrictions. "Um, yeah. Charlotte kept asking questions about why we weren't sharing a hotel room and why you were still coming to the shows even though you aren't competing, so I had to make something up on the fly."

Becky nibbled half-heartedly on the remains of her breakfast. "What did you tell her?"

"That Creative was considering a romance angle between you and Finn, so they didn't want us to be caught in public together. I told her it was a secret, so I'm hoping she won't spread it around." Then something else dawned on Seth and he groaned, shutting his eyes as his head tilted back. "Except now I'll have to tell Finn just in case she starts acting weird around him. Fuck, I am not built for all this deception shit."

Becky reached over and squeezed his hand before Roman started making his way back to the table. Their interactions since the full moon hadn't been entirely chaste—they still snuck kisses when they could, but their clothing always stayed on, hands rarely straying underneath—but the constant self-restraint meant every touch meant that much more. "It'll be over soon. It's been weeks now and I haven't shown any symptoms, and you haven't done anything else against your will either. After the full moon, hopefully Hunter will be convinced."

"Fingers crossed." Then he glanced up at Roman as he set the filled cups on the table. "I'm going to go pull Finn aside quick and let him know about the fake storyline I told Charlotte about just so he's not totally confused if he hears talk about it."

"What are you going to tell _him_ , though?" Roman prodded. "He'll probably ask why you needed a cover story, so now you need a cover story for your cover story."

Becky looked up at the ceiling as if praying. "Please don't let him ask if I'm pregnant. If that rumour gets out and my ma catches wind of it, you're as good as dead, Rollins."

"Keep it simple," Roman suggested, sipping at his second coffee. "You've already established the lie that Creative wants a romantic angle for Becky. Tell him basically the same thing, but just don't offer up a name. Say Creative is still deciding on who to pair her with, so they don't want Becky seen with anyone just in case."

"You're too good at this," Seth remarked as he stood, bumping fists with Roman.

"I have a daughter who's getting increasingly creative with her excuses," Roman replied. "Means I have to constantly keep getting better at sniffing out the bullshit."

As Seth headed over to where Finn was sitting with AJ Styles, he thought about parents and children and excuses. How many excuses had his mother had to make for him over the years? How many things had she purposefully ignored just because she didn't want to face the reality of them? He supposed it didn't really matter now. He was here and he had to deal with it all—his mess, the possibility of Becky turning, the fallout from both—day to day, moon to moon.


	8. Chapter 8

_No news is good news_ might have been reassuring for medical matters, but it wasn't so helpful when there were potentially murderous werewolves after you. Since the last full moon, Seth had contacted every member of his father's extended family that Holly had information for. Many wanted nothing to do with him at all, even despite his WWE fame: they considered him a blemish on his father's past and they didn't want to disrupt his life with his current family. Some wished him well, but had no advice to offer. Only a few were willing to speak about being werewolves, and then only in person. It was hard fitting meetings in alongside his WWE schedule, but Seth did his best, Hunter adjusting his schedule when necessary.

But no one had heard of large packs, especially not violent ones. On the rare occasions they had encountered another werewolf on a full-moon night, it was usually a joyous thing, a pleasant surprise to be able to talk about their condition with someone else who understood first-hand. Most of them had kept in touch with the other werewolves they had encountered and while they didn't offer their friends' identities or contact information to Seth, they had asked on his behalf and the consensus was the same. Most packs were small, usually family units, and they kept to themselves for obvious reasons. The main goal was to _not_ draw attention to your werewolf nature. The wolves that had attacked Seth seemed to be doing the very opposite, flaunting themselves and trying to be noticed.

It wasn't just information Seth had been hoping for from the meetings. He longed for a sense of connection to the other side of his family. While he loved his mother, step-father, and half-siblings, his father's side was still mostly a mystery to him. When he met these uncles and cousins, though, Seth found he had only the vaguest interest in them. He asked the type of questions politeness demanded—what they did for a living, if they had a family of their own, what hobbies they enjoyed—but their answers never encouraged any sense of connection. They might be related by blood and share some genetic traits, but that was as far as the bond went. When he thought of family, Seth had two distinct images: Holly and her kin, and then The Shield and Becky.

He wouldn't have necessarily included Hunter in that family portrait, but Hunter insisted on accompanying him on his next full-moon outing. "I want to make sure for myself," he had said. "I don't want The Shield or Becky covering for you." He fit in with the forest, though, large and powerful; once you had Hunter out of a suit and wearing jeans and a t-shirt, you remembered how physically intimidating he could be.

Becky, Dean, and Roman were there too, and Seth was helping Becky arrange a recovery area just in case she turned. Thinking about it all month had been pure hell; now that they were on the cusp of discovering whether she was infected or not, Seth was shaking. "If . . . if something happens and I'm still out in the forest or whatever, Dean and Roman will know how to help. Don't worry about hurting them. If you . . . are infected, your first transformation will leave you really weak; you wouldn't be able to hurt them even if you tried."

Becky glanced down at herself. She had worn old clothes, purposefully baggy so she wouldn't strangle herself if she did transform. The claw wounds were mostly a distant memory; Seth had to get right up to her face and squint to see any scars, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Did it mean she was developing werewolf-grade healing? Or had she simply been lucky and maybe Seth hadn't gotten a deep enough hold before Roman wrenched her free? After making sure Hunter was out of earshot, she dropped her voice and said, "Is it weird that if it . . . doesn't happen, part of me will be disappointed? It's just . . . it's been in every conversation, every thought, for the past month, and for it all to just be nothing. . . ."

Seth could hear the unsaid part: _It's not that I WANT to be a werewolf_. She would never say it out loud; she wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings. "On the bright side," he said, forcing himself to smile, "it would mean Hunter might lighten up a bit. You'd be able to wrestle again. We'd be able to. . . ."

He didn't need to finish it. The deep spark in Becky's eyes said it all. "That would definitely be good." She gave his hands a quick squeeze and, even though Hunter was there, followed it up with a kiss that ended up not being quick at all. When she settled back on her feet, she motioned to the blanket Seth had spread out for her. "So do I just sit here and see if anything happens?"

"Pretty much. Most of the relatives I spoke to said that's how they started preparing their kids for their first shift." Seth had been surprised to learn that the werewolf gene didn't seem to be inevitable. In some lines, it skipped generations; in others, it manifested in one sibling but not another. There didn't seem to be any absolutes, which was both infuriating and inspiring. 

Hunter wandered up before Becky could reply, Roman and Dean not far behind. Dean kept making funny faces behind Hunter's back, trying to get Becky to smile. "So, Lynch—feel any different yet?"

Seth fought not to roll his eyes. "It doesn't necessarily hit you like a truck, Hunter. It's different for everyone."

"But if she's infected," Hunter prodded, "will it manifest with this full moon or can it . . . sit dormant for a while?"

That had been one of Seth's worries too, that they would assume Becky was cleared only to have her go through a wrenching transformation months or even a year later. "According to everything my family knows, no. If you're bitten or scratched and you get infected, you change at the next full moon."

Becky pointed at Dean and wagged her finger. "That means no _bitch_ puns from you."

"Not a one. And I promise I won't buy you a pink collar either. It would be a cool one. Black with flames, maybe." Dean might have teased, but he was also the first to come up and hug her. "You'll be fine, Irish. By the end of the night, you'll be like _I wasted three hours of my life to sit on a blanket_ and Seth will have to make it up to you."

Becky blushed a bit, but from the look she shot Seth, he figured both of them would be quite fine with that outcome. "I think I can spare three hours or so." After she cleared her throat, she looked at Seth again, much tamer this time. "Or will I have to wait until morning? Is it as long as the full moon is visible or something?"

Seth shook his head, reaching back to scratch his shoulders. He couldn't see the moon from their clearing, but he could feel it in his skin, wide and bright and threatening to stretch his muscles until they snapped. "If it's going to happen, it'll happen soon. Maybe an hour at most. My being here and shifting might help things go faster, and I should—"

"Go," Becky said with a wry smile, kissing him again before pushing him gently in the direction of his recovery spot on the other side of the main clearing.

Normally Seth focussed on nothing but himself when he started to shift, trying to tilt the balance between wolf and human. That night, though, he kept looking over at Becky. Hunter had retreated a safe distance away to a point where he could still observe yet reach the SUV if he ran. Roman had suggested leaving the doors unlocked in case of another attack. Seth had specifically chosen another spot—not the site of the ambush, but also not within his comfort zone—and done a long walk around before setting up in the clearing. He hadn't sensed anything, but he hadn't noticed anything amiss during the last full moon either.

As his body started to break and re-form, Seth could feel the emotions of the others washing over him like currents of the wind. Hunter was filled with strained sympathy; while he knew about Seth's nature, he never seemed ready to be confronted with the harsh realities of it. Dean, in his own wacky way, was as steady and calm as Roman was. Both were ready to leap into action if they had to, but Seth could feel their attention focussed more on Becky than him. It was dangerous in a way—Seth certainly posed the greater threat—but he was grateful that they were looking out for her. Becky was shaking, her energy streaked with subtle fear and bubbles of anticipation.

Once Seth was fully in wolf form, he gave himself a moment to lope around, getting used to four legs again. Then he trotted over to Becky, who was sitting with her legs crossed and hands held loose as if meditating. Her eyes were open, though, and she smiled as he approached. "Hey, you." She held her hands up and he nuzzled them gently, still aware of Hunter's disapproval even in wolf form. "Nothing yet."

Part of Seth—the greediest, most selfish part—ached. Running as a wolf was pure glory; what would it be like to share that, especially with someone he loved? But for every high there were so many lows, and he wouldn't wish those on anyone cared about. He licked her hands briefly before going over to Roman and Dean. "Don't worry," Roman said. "We're watching for other wolves, and we're watching Becky too. We've got it covered. Go do your thing."

When Seth hesitated, Dean reached down and ruffled the fur between his ears. "What, you want me to put your leash on and take you for a walk?"

"Should you guys really be treating him like he's a dog?" Hunter called out, leaning against a tree. His gaze kept returning to Becky's hands in her lap as if he expected her to sprout fur and claws any minute.

Dean shook his head and sat beside Becky. "Man, why are people so judgey about leashes? Let people have their kinks."

"I think you're telling us more than we need to know about you and Renee," Becky replied, smiling as Seth returned to her for a final head pat before heading into the forest.

Seth stayed close to the clearing at first, listening for any other wildlife, not just wolves. There was only the usual assortment of animals that indicated a healthy forest, so he set out at a run, always glancing back toward the clearing. When he heard a sharp yip, Seth almost tripped over his own paws as he started to dash back to the clearing until he saw a small fox dart away. He did a quick loop back, staying out of sight, but Becky was still upright, sitting across from Dean and apparently playing some game involving pine cones; her sudden laugh rang throughout the forest, sounding like it belonged there. Hunter and Roman stood closer to Seth's blanket, scanning the surroundings for any sign of trouble.

Somewhat at ease, Seth let himself roam farther, though he still came back before it was dark. Hunter had a late flight to catch and Seth wanted a chance to talk to Becky before she went to sleep. He slowed as he went past her on his way to his blanket, rubbing against her shoulder. "Still nothing," she said quickly. He could sense a coiled energy in her, however, and he wondered if Hunter's presence was putting her on edge.

Since Hunter was still there, Seth forced himself through the reversal quicker than he liked and only took a few minutes to recover before he started getting dressed. "Hey." Roman's gentle voice came from behind him. "No need to rush, man. Hunter's got an hour to get to the airport."

"I know." Seth's shrug was more of a shiver as he shrugged into his shirt. There was no way to tell Roman that he didn't want to linger as a wolf because that form amplified his covetousness. If the others hadn't been there, would he have tried to bite Becky and turn her for real? He hoped not, but the fact that he was even thinking of it was answer enough. He'd thought he could have the best of both his worlds, but now he wasn't so sure.


	9. Chapter 9

It felt like a back-handed punishment out of some Greek tragedy. Becky hadn't transformed at the full moon, so the only legacy of his attack were the scars along her jaw—and it seemed like only he could see them. Hunter had her examined by one of WWE's preferred doctors, who found no signs of scarring or permanent damage. Becky's own doctor agreed with those results. The photographers and make-up artists never complained about having to work with difficult scar tissue. But they were the first thing Seth saw whenever he looked at her face, ghosts of her pain and his transgression.

"Seriously, bro, _there's nothing there_." Roman was holding Becky's chin in one hand and pushing her hair back with the other, tilting her face to the vanity lighting in the dressing room. Becky and all three members of The Shield were minutes away from being announced for an autograph signing session, and Seth was still worried about her scars, so she had gamely sat on the counter so Dean and Roman could look for themselves. "Right, Dean? I can't see anything."

"Maybe only werewolves can," Dean suggested, leaning close to peer at Becky's jaw and giving her cheek an experimental poke. "I can't see anything."

"Well, I can _feel_ something," Becky muttered, "because it's my _face_." She stayed still, though, probably hoping that Roman and Dean's assessments might finally convince Seth that she was all right.

"Sorry, Irish." Roman kissed the top of her head before letting go of her chin. "But I seriously don't see anything, Seth. And enough people have checked." He gave Seth a quick hug before slinging an arm around his slumped shoulders. "Are you sure it's not just . . . you? You know, manifestation of guilt or something like that? You know what you happened, so you expect to see marks or whatever?"

_You know what happened_. Something in Seth burned at the words. It should have been _You know what you did_. He could never let himself forget what he had done, what he was capable of, what might happen without a hint of warning. If he wanted to keep wrestling—to keep a relationship with Becky—he had to be confident in his control and for the first time in years, he wasn't. "I can see them." When he reached for Becky's face, he paused, but she met his gaze with absolute trust. "And it's not just because I know where the scars would be." The skin was smooth to the touch, and he didn't know whether to credit the manuka honey his mother had suggested or if it was some strange side effect of werewolf claws.

"Seth, I'm fine." Becky turned into his touch and kissed his palm, curling her fingers around his wrist so he couldn't move away. "It doesn't hurt anymore, and I can move my jaw just fine."

He knew—from very pleasant experiences—that the range of motion in her jaw hadn't been hindered at all, but he couldn't believe that his eyes were deceiving him every time he looked at Becky's face. Looking around at his friends, however, it was obvious that he would never convince them and they couldn't sway him either. "If it ever starts to hurt again, even just a twinge—"

Ignoring the presence of Roman and Dean, Becky pulled Seth down into a kiss. "If anything changes, you'll be the first to know. Okay?" She rested her forehead against his before letting him go and hopping down to the floor. "I promise."

It was as good a promise as Seth was likely to get, but it didn't stop him from cringing when they entered the convention hall and took their seats. Every time someone looked at Becky just a little too long, he worried that they saw what he saw, but she sailed through the signing like the champion she was, full of smiles and kind words. Roman and Dean had to nudge Seth from time to time to keep him focussed on the fans on the other side of the table, though, and as the afternoon wore on, his nerves felt as tangled and sharp as barbed wire. When Becky laid a hand on his shoulder, he almost jumped out of his skin. "Sorry, Becks. What's up?" The signing was still going on, though it was near the end, and it wasn't like her to take even a minute away from her fan interactions if she didn't have to.

"I know this will sound weird," she began, crouching down and turning away from the crowd so no one would be able to read her lips, "but I think one of those werewolves is here. Near the Doctor Who booth, there's a tall woman. Built like Charlotte—without the enhancements—but with short, punkish hair. She keeps looking over at us and. . . ." Becky's voice dropped so low even Seth had a hard time making out the words. "She feels like that white wolf did when I saw it."

_Some werewolf you are,_ his brain mocked. _Your human girlfriend spotted a werewolf in your midst before you did._ "Go back to your spot," he said quietly, "and I'll look." If Becky was right, the werewolf had probably spotted her already and figured out what she was telling Seth. He didn't want to be blatant, though, so he glanced up every once in a while between talking with and signing for fans. At the next lull, while the line attendant was checking tickets for the next batch of fans, Seth let his gaze roam.

It wasn't hard to find the woman Becky was talking about. Even in a convention hall full of fans in cosplay, she stood out. He estimated that she was even taller than Charlotte, with muscles built more from daily labour than trainer-led workouts. Her close-cropped hair was silvery-white on top and dark along the sides, but he couldn't tell whether it was natural or—if Becky's assessment was correct—she had dyed it to match her wolf colouring. Suddenly she turned and met his gaze, and his snarled-up nerves tightened even further, making him want to vomit. He started to rise to head to the bathroom, but Roman stayed him with a hand as another batch of fans approached.

The first one to Seth's table made him think of autumn: brisk winds, crackling leaves, bonfires. There was nothing about his appearance to elicit such a visceral reaction, though: Seth imagined that, like himself, he was often assumed to be Hispanic, with his olive skin, dark eyes, and dark hair, though the man kept his almost in a buzzcut. "It's such a pleasure to see you again," the man said, sliding a picture forward on the table for Seth to sign.

It was a blurry distance shot of Seth after a full-moon run, just returned to his human form.

_The black wolf,_ Seth thought grimly, looking at the man again. Now that he was looking for signs, he could see the white hair shockingly bright along his temples. 

Roman quickly flipped the surveillance photo over and shoved it back. "Sorry. Only promotional materials and official merchandise can be signed." His voice was sharp but firm; he didn't want to attract attention. "You must have missed the sign."

"I saw the signs I needed to," the man said vaguely. He set something else on the table then, this time a piece of paper the size of a sticky note. "But I won't hold up the line any longer. See you later." Then he tucked the photo back in a bag from one of the merchandise stalls and headed for the signing exit.

"Focus," Roman whispered, gripping Seth's knee under the table after stuffing the paper in his pocket. "We only have another half hour to go."

Seth drank down half his bottle of water in one gulp, which sent one of the hall's assistants scrambling forward with another. He assumed he kept greeting fans and signing memorabilia, but the next thirty minutes were a blur until the line attendant closed off the line and the groans of disappointed fans on the other side of the rope brought him back to reality. "Wolves," he gulped as soon as they were herded off stage and into the back once more. "There are werewolves here. At least two."

"Two?" Just like that Becky was at his side, ducking under his arm and holding him steady. "Who else did you recognize?"

"The black wolf. There's probably more." His gut tightened and he nearly doubled over, but Becky and Dean helped guide him into a chair while Roman made sure no one else was nearby. "That must be why I feel like I'm getting clawed up from the inside."

"That's some shitty supernatural Spidey-sense, then. You'd think it would be something more pleasant, like a frisson." When Roman looked confused, Dean grinned. "Renee's mom got me a word-a-day calendar. It's doing wonders for my texting."

"I bet." Roman huffed out a long breath. "Let's get out of here. We fulfilled our obligation." He still cast a regretful look back at the main hall. "I would have stayed for everyone else in the line," he added, "but I don't think it's safe."

The four gathered their things and headed for the reserved area where their rental SUV was parked, but Seth barely made it two steps into the parking garage before he stumbled. "They're here."

"Not to hurt you, I assure you." The unexpected voice made them all turn, and they saw three people waiting across from their rental SUV: the tall woman, the man who had brought the photo, and a second woman with long sleek hair and high heels so narrow she could probably pick a lock with them. "A wolf should never hurt their own kind."

"Then apparently some of you didn't get the memo a few weeks ago," Dean muttered.

The tall woman strode forward and, before anyone else could react, gripped Becky's chin and tilted it this way and that. "Impressive. Minimal scarring, and no transformation." She stepped back before Becky could react. "You must have thorough family records to know about the healing methods."

_Minimal scarring_. Even in the midst of agony and confusion, Seth felt vaguely redeemed. He had known the scars were there; it was just that his friends couldn't see them. "Who are you?" Seth asked, forcing himself to straighten up. If a fight broke out, it was clear the other three would win, but he wouldn't give up easily.

"I'm Vida," the tall woman said, turning to point at the others. "Hayden and Maggie. We didn't bring everyone," she added, "because we didn't want to intimidate you, but we wanted to extend an invitation to you, Seth." Then she cocked her head to the side. "Or would you prefer _Colby_?"

Seth forced himself to stay calm. "Seth is fine. What's the invitation?"

Vida didn't look like she wanted to say it in front of the others, but Seth reasoned that if they had a surveillance photo of him after a full-moon run, they knew that Dean, Roman, and Becky knew all about his werewolf habits. "Whenever we find a new solitary wolf, we have a mid-moon run to celebrate. Most packs are family-run, as you must know. But there are always solitaries, for various reasons. Deaths in the family. Rifts between kin. One-night stands or uncertain parentage—definitely more common now than in previous generations. But we don't have to toil alone. We started finding each other and building our own family."

"I have a family," Seth said simply, "and a pack."

"Not a _real_ pack, though." Maggie stepped forward, and her heels somehow didn't make a sound against the cement in the parking garage. "You had to learn so much on your own, didn't you? Trial and error? It sucks. I know. But then Hayden found me, and now I have the pack I should have had. Mentors, friends. . . ." A smile filled her pause before she added, "Mates."

Seth was pretty sure she didn't mean that in the British way, but Dean bracketed Becky's shoulders with an arm so she couldn't move forward. "I'm good for all of those, actually."

"We can teach you how to manage your wolf more fully, Seth. How to integrate it into your human life. Yours is a very physical profession," Hayden pointed out. "Your chances of losing control and hurting someone are much higher than most." He gestured towards Becky. "You were fortunate that your friend survived. The odds won't always be in your favour."

"The paper Hayden gave you has a day, a time, and coordinates," Vida explained. "You're welcome to join us. It's very informal." She looked at Becky, Dean, and Roman with a hint of compassion. "You would have to come alone, however. While you have every reason to trust your friends, many of our pack have had bad dealings with humans and avoid them as much as possible."

Hayden subtly stepped in front of Maggie. "Your friends are welcome to stay in the nearest town if you want some assurance. They just can't be present for the run. One of our pack members inherited a large amount of land from her grandparents and she lets us use it for gatherings."

Maggie tried to step out from behind Hayden, but Vida motioned for her to stop. "This is a lot to process. We know that. We've all been there." She stepped forward and handed Seth a business card., and he was surprised to see that she was a CEO of a well-known tech company. "Even if you decide you don't want to run with us, you can contact me any time." Tapping on the business logo, she added, "This is a gesture of trust. Please honour it as such. Whether you choose to join with us or not—whether you join us just for this run or for the long term—your identity will be safe with us. We would never expose another wolf." Her formality was completely at odds with her look; all she needed was some ragged ring gear and she could be Ruby Riott's new best friend.

Dean glanced down at the card and his eyes went wide. "If he joins up with your pack, will he get a family discount?" But the three wolves were already walking away, though Maggie did keep stealing glances back at Seth.

"I forgot the paper," Seth said, staring down at the business card. He had been feeling so out of sorts at the signing that he probably signed half of the merchandise with his legal name instead of his ring one.

Roman dug in his pocket and pulled out a small square. "Sorry it's crumpled. I just wanted to get you out of there before anything bad happened." He flattened it out between his palms and handed it to Seth without reading it.

"Next week," Seth reported. "Thursday." The coordinates meant nothing to him off the top of his head, but they would be easy enough to look up.

Dean grimaced. "Can't make it, man. I have goat yoga. Kidding. I don't need an excuse to hang out with goats. Screw yoga."

"You should go." The words were so soft that Seth almost missed them at first, and even then he didn't think they had come from Becky. "You could learn a lot. Your cousins helped, but there's still so much that you don't know."

Sensing an impending moment, Dean and Roman quietly retreated to the SUV, unlocking it and stowing their bags to give Becky and Seth some privacy. "Becky, I meant what I said," Seth insisted, reaching for her hand. "I don't need—"

"You don't know if you need them or not," Becky replied simply, kissing his cheek. "And you need to know whether you do. So you should go." Then she turned and got in the SUV, closing the door so gently it barely made a sound.

Roman shot him a sympathetic look as he opened the driver's door. "I'll drive. Just to give your nerves some time to settle."

"Thanks." Seth got in the back seat with Becky and reached for her hand again, and even though the SUV was full of chatter about everything from where to go for dinner to their strangest fan request of the afternoon, now there was a distance between them that Seth wasn't sure how to span.


	10. Chapter 10

The idea of a run with other werewolves should have either been daunting or exhilarating, but when he woke up on the mid-moon day, Seth just felt weary. Roman was at home with his family, but Dean and Becky had agreed to stay in the nearby town, though he sensed hesitance from both of them. When he asked Becky, however, she simply said, "I trust you. I don't trust them."

"Don't let what Maggie said get to you. I'd be new blood if I joined. A shiny new toy. That's the only reason she would be interested." Seth held her close and sighed. The farm wasn't far, but he should have been on the road already. He just didn't feel right about leaving Becky behind when things were so unsettled between them. He could feel the restless energy roiling in her gut and wanted to put her at ease. "If you have something you want to say, just say it. Please. I'd rather get everything out in the open before I go."

"I don't want to hold you back." It took him a moment to realize that she wasn't talking about the run. "If you have a chance to have a proper pack with people who can help you learn more about what you are and. . . ." Her cheeks went bright pink and she turned away as tears filled her eyes. "And if you can have a girlfriend that you don't have to worry about, then—"

Seth cut her off with a kiss. "It took me six years to get this one. If you think I'm trading you in already, you don't know me very well."

He'd hoped the quip would at least make Becky smile, but it just seemed to deepen the sorrow in her eyes. "You can say that now, but you don't what you're missing. You don't know what it's like to be around other werewolves." Her lips twitched as she added, "You don't know what it's like to have sex with a werewolf. I do. I'm qualified to tell you it's really good, so I . . . I would understand if you wanted to try—"

"I _don't_." It wasn't entirely true, of course. As a teenage boy learning how to cope with turning into a werewolf, naturally his thoughts had wandered to sex. Even as an adult he had wondered. As long as he was with Becky, though, he had no plans to answer that particular question. "I want you. You, okay? Not Maggie or Hayden or Vida or any of them. It doesn't matter that they're werewolves. What matters is that they aren't you."

But even that impassioned plea didn't make much of a dent. "That's how you feel right now, Seth, but things will be different when everyone's naked and you've just had a good run and there's all that energy. I'm just saying that if you . . . if you do, I'll understand."

"And I want you to understand that I won't. Becky, please." Cupping her face in his hands, trying to ignore the scars he had made, Seth held her gaze. "Nothing's going to happen."

Dean, naturally, picked that exact moment to bring Seth's supply bag to the car. "Two sets of clothes, some towels, water, wipes, burner phone."

"Thanks, man. Becky, can you give us a minute?" Seth asked. Becky nodded mutely, heading back into the hotel, and Seth watched her until her bright hair had disappeared around a corner. "I don't know what to say to her to convince her I'm not signing up for an orgy."

"I'll try talking to her," Dean offered, "but I see her point. She's worried that you want to be around your own people or whatever. That being with one of them will be easier than being with her."

Seth shook his head and huffed out an exasperated breath. At this rate, he was going to need the extra run just to burn off some stress. "But I don't care about what's easier. I care about her."

"I know that. You know that. Deep down, she knows that." Then Dean shrugged. "But she also just saw three very attractive werewolves offer you a spot in their pack, so yeah, she's feeling a little insecure." He gave Seth's shoulder a friendly punch. "I'll take her out for coffee and see if we can find a dog park or something. Get her mind off things. Just call when you're back or if you need a ride."

"I will. Thanks, man." Seth gave him a quick hug and headed off before he could second-guess himself. It could very well be a trap. Maybe they were going to blackmail him for money. Maybe they needed an outsider wolf for some strange rite. He didn't know. But if he didn't try at least once, he knew he would always wonder. _And that's why Becky's worried,_ his inner voice declared. It wasn't a huge stretch of logic to go from friendly romp to casual sex, not with all the variables in play: naked bodies, adrenaline pumping, energy to spare. 

Seth spent most of the short drive trying to think of ways to convince Becky that any interest he had in running with a pack was purely academic, but everything that came to mind sounded flat. It wasn't a simple case of _Actions speak louder than words_ either. _Maybe Roman will have some advice,_ he hoped as he pulled up to the large farm.

He had been expecting ramshackle buildings and dilapidated fences, but the pack had clearly invested in the land's security features. The fence and gate were made of reinforced steel and had a speaker and security screen that would have fit in at any exclusive community. "Hi. It's Seth," he said into the speaker, feeling slightly awkward. Vida clearly had a double life—werewolf and CEO—but he wasn't sure he wanted to be Seth _or_ Colby to these people. 

"Hi. Follow the path and park anywhere on the tarmac. Everyone's out back." The laugh that spilled through the speaker didn't even sound tinny. "Clothing optional, obviously."

"Thanks." The gate opened smoothly and Seth proceeded along the winding road—paved and well kept, not ruts worn into dirt—to a parking area that his childhood community centre would have loved. The whole area looked more like a recreation complex; there were no hints of its life as a former farm that he could see, not even a token silo. Approaching naked felt a bit too bold, so Seth stayed clothed, dropping his keys in his bag and following the raucous cheers to the back of the large building. 

At first glance, it looked like any loud backyard gathering—if it were being held in a nudist colony. Almost everyone was already stripped down, though a few were still in their underwear or swimsuits. A large above-ground pool was almost eclipsed by splashes of water, and half the generous patio had been turned into an outdoor kitchen. Two people were at the industrial-sized barbecue, and Seth could see at least four picnic tables laden with food. "Seth!" Vida was smiling as she strode over, naked except for a breezy robe that wouldn't have been out of place at a beach resort. Even though the temperature was starting to dip, no one seemed cold in the least. "I'm so glad you decided to come." She eyed his t-shirt and jeans with a hint of amusement. "You don't have to run if you don't want to. No pressure. But I do hope you'll listen to some of our stories before you decide whether you want to join."

Seth nodded slowly. "I'll hear you out, yeah. I'm not sure a pack life is for me, though. I'm on the road so much. . . ." It was an excuse and he knew it, but he didn't want these people thinking he was automatically joining them just because he had shown up. 

"That's fine. There are people here who joined years after we first met them. Some werewolves need more time than others to really feel that draw of a pack." Vida gestured around at the large crowd; Seth hadn't expected quite so many people. "We're from all walks of life. You know where I work. We also have teachers, therapists, sex workers, doctors, musicians, everything. Lots of athletes too, even if just in the casual sense." Vida smiled at him. "I'm sure you've discovered that working out is a good way to keep the wolf at bay if you're not able to shift."

"Yeah. It was one of the few things that helped me as a kid," Seth admitted. Pushing his body to its limits must have mimicked a transformation.

"Hayden called and said he'll be a bit late; he's a translator and he's working on a deportation case. But Maggie and I will show you around." Just as Vida said her name, Maggie dashed over. Unlike Vida, she was one who had opted for full nudity, and Seth made a point of not looking any lower than her shoulders. "C'mon, Mags. Let's introduce the guest of honour."

"Can't wait." Maggie looped her arm through his and pressed close. "You're going to have such a great night, I promise."

Seth expected Vida to reprimand her, but the tall woman was already moving through the crowd to a small stage area. He caught a few looks of surprised recognition—a consequence he hadn't really considered before accepting the offer—as Maggie led him up to the front. As Seth climbed the stairs to the stage, he felt nervous on a scale unlike anything any pay-per-view had evoked in him, and he had never missed Becky or The Shield more.


	11. Chapter 11

Seth preferred working out with a friend or two for company and advice. It hadn't occurred to him that the same benefits would apply to a full-moon shift. After Vida had introduced him to the others and everyone snacked and chatted for a while, explaining everything from how they deflected attention from the farm on shifting nights to dealing with everyday struggles, those who were still wearing clothes stripped them off like a snake shedding dead skin. The more Seth thought about the metaphor, the more apt he realized it was: most of these people considered themselves wolves first and humans second, not the other way around.

All of the bodies were well toned, but that was the only real similarity they shared. In human form, the werewolves differed greatly in height, colouring, and bearing. As they began to turn into wolves, Seth was amazed by how seamless their transitions were. It had taken him years to get as comfortable as he was with the process, and some of these werewolves seemed to just flow from one form to the other. "It gets easier with time," Vida said beside him, draping her robe over the back of a deck chair. The werewolves seemed to stagger their shifts, and Vida had suggested he go in the last group so he had more of a chance to observe. Maggie and quite a few of the younger werewolves offered to stay behind with him, but Vida told them to join the others. The remaining wolves seemed to be the older, more mature ones—ones more in command of their dual natures. While the younger or more hyper werewolves transformed, the more serene ones took care of the mundane details, like making sure any open flames were extinguished and that the gate was secured.

Watching the others change so smoothly, Seth wasn't so sure. "I don't know. It's been almost twenty years for me now. I can't imagine it's ever going to be that graceful." He pointed to where Hayden was transforming near the treeline. 

"Having a pack does help," Vida admitted. She didn't quite look away as Seth disrobed, but she didn't watch either. "We connect with each other's energy—fill in the blanks, as it were." 

Seth could see that for himself. Just like a group of dogs playing together at an off-leash park, these werewolves ran together, tumbling into each other; they were almost constantly touching, and he wondered if that was part of why he was so physically affectionate. Once he and Vida were the last ones left on two legs, he turned to her. "Why did you and Hayden and. . . ." He paused, not knowing which other wolves had been there on that fateful full-moon night. He had been introduced to most of the werewolves in attendance, but he could barely remember half the names he had been told, and he wasn't at all sure he would be able to connect their human faces to their wolf scents. "Why did you attack Becky and Dean?" Part of him felt guilty for not asking before, but being around so many new people—new scents, new energy—had been overwhelming.

Vida grimaced, running a hand through her short-cropped hair. "We've had problems with werewolf hunters in that area. We sensed you, of course, and we were curious, but we didn't immediately make the connection between you and them, even though your scent was all over Becky." She said it so plainly that Seth couldn't even be embarrassed. "Hunters have been known to seduce werewolves to learn their secret and gain their trust, so we thought that might have been the case. Obviously we were wrong, and I should have apologized to her and Dean when we first met. If they're amenable, I'm happy to explain our actions to them and apologize properly. We can discuss that more later, if you like, but we should join the run before the others start to wonder."

It wasn't that Seth was self-conscious or even unaccustomed to changing form in front of someone. His audience had always been human before, though, with no preconceived notions about how things should be done. Now that he had seen how smooth and elegant it was for the others, he felt like he was wearing army boots and trying to do ballet. When he was mid-shift, he felt a strange shiver go down his spine. _You're doing fine._ He wasn't sure how his brain translated the sensation, but the words flashed in his brain when he looked towards Vida, patiently waiting for him to join her.

The run was transcendent; Seth couldn't think of a more perfect use for the word. He felt like he could run for hours, weaving between trees and his fellow wolves, jumping in and out of a small stream until he was soaked to the skin. It all felt as natural to him as wrestling did, like his muscles were sculpted exactly for these actions. Hayden caught up with him and motioned for him to head up a sharp incline. _Look at them,_ Hayden's human voice rang in his mind. _Aren't they glorious?_

Seth had to admit they were. Even before he knew he was a werewolf, wolves had been one of his favourite animals. Now that he had a taste of what it was like to live as one, he respected them even more. But as he gazed down at the others, running and playing and—yeah, some were definitely fucking in the distance—he felt more in tune with his wolf side more than ever before. _This is what I should have had all along,_ he thought. Then bitterness crept in. _This is what my biological father and his family kept from me—are STILL keeping from me._ He should have had relatives to run with, not a smattering of strangers.

Sensing Seth's bitterness, Hayden nudged his shoulder. _All werewolves are kin._

He wasn't quite sure he believed that yet. These werewolves had all welcomed him warmly enough. Some were wrestling fans and recognized him, but they weren't obnoxious about it; if anything, they were surprised that they didn't make the connection sooner. Others, like Maggie, made him feel like they were just happy to see a new face. But he wasn't the type to bond so quickly. There were wrestlers he had worked with for over a decade that he still didn't necessarily consider friends, so the fact that these people shared a genetic quirk with him didn't mean much. _Is everyone here a born wolf?_ Seth wasn't sure how they communicated mentally, so he tried to think the words very clearly.

It seemed to work, because Hayden shook his head as he started down a path that would bring them back amongst the majority of the wolves. _Some are made, but few survive the process._ Seth's brain was still processing those words when Hayden added, _Are you thinking of turning Becky?_

Seth came up so short he tumbled over his own paws and into some bushes on the side of the trail. _No._ It was so sharp, so instinctual, that Hayden reared back from the force of it, and Seth quickly followed it up with an apology. _That would have to be her choice, and she would need to know everything involved._

Hayden dipped his head in a nod. _Good. We've had wolves who wanted to force the change on a loved one. They aren't with us any longer._ He didn't elaborate whether he meant it in the general sense or in the more euphemistic one.

_Come on! We're supposed to be running!_ Three young wolves bounded toward them along the trail as the words sparkled in Seth's mind, and he recognized one of them as Maggie; he thought the largest one was a college student named Madison, but he couldn't be sure. Maggie shuffled back a step when Hayden gave a sharp huff, but the three young wolves didn't lose their enthusiasm, taking off at a lope into the trees.

Warmth rolled through Seth's mind like a hearty chuckle. _She's right. You should be mingling. Come on. I'll reintroduce you to some of the members you might click with best._ Then Hayden loped down the trail himself, looking back over his shoulder to make sure Seth was following.

The very essence of wolf was everywhere. Seth caught glimpses of curled tails or bright eyes to either side. The scent of musk that lingered in his nose for days after a full moon hung in the air like mist, rich and vivid. His ears were filled with a constant chorus of howls, yips, and barks, and Seth was still trying to learn what each sound meant. There were a few times when Maggie or some of the other younger ones tried to get him to leave the larger group, but Vida or Hayden usually interjected quickly, nosing the younglings aside and giving them a sharp snarl. Seth had no trouble translating that: _Back off_.

Just as they hadn't transformed all at once, neither did they return to human en masse; there was a wall of outdoor showers where a stable had probably been once, but there were only ten shower heads. Seth noticed that most of the older werewolves reverted to human first, and he joined them; he wanted to get back to the hotel while Becky might still be awake so they could talk about her concerns. Before he could reach for his clothes, though, Maggie intercepted him. "I was trying to show you the cave near the end of the stream—"

"Mags, drop it." The girl Seth thought was named Madison rolled her eyes as she stayed sprawled on the ground, catching her breath. Most of the werewolves seemed happier in their wolf form, but he thought Madison was one of the few who was more self-conscious on four legs. "He's not interested. And he's got a girlfriend."

Now Maggie rolled her eyes. "A _human_ girlfriend," she retorted. "Everyone knows humans don't count. You can't have real relationships with them anyways, even if they know. They'll never understand. That's why we have packs."

Seth took a definitive step back. He didn't think he had given Maggie—or any other wolf for that matter—any mixed signals, but since it was his first meaningful wolf-form interaction with other werewolves, he had no clue. "I'm quite happy with my human girlfriend, thanks."

Maggie just laughed. "Only because you haven't fucked a werewolf yet. Once you do, humans are nothing. You might as well be sticking your dick in a damp sock—"

" _Maggie_." Vida hadn't dressed yet, but she strode towards them with the aplomb of an executive in a power suit. If Stephanie McMahon were a werewolf, Seth thought she would move like Vida did. "You will respect the choices of _any_ wolf that is welcomed to run with us, whether they're a guest or a member or kin. If that's too difficult for you, you'll be asked to leave."

Maggie cowered a bit, looking to Madison for backup, but her friend wanted nothing to do with what sounded like a recurring debate. "Everyone else is giving him tips, Vida! You've taught him things and so has Hayden and Poppy and Denisse and Tre—"

"We've taught him useful things, Maggie. Pertinent things." Vida was standing firm. "Sex is a choice." Then she turned to Seth. "Please ignore her. Even the youngest of us is usually better behaved than this. Go ahead and shower. I'll make sure she doesn't bother you."

"Thanks." Seth quickly grabbed his things and rinsed off under the outdoor shower, marvelling at how good he felt. Surrounded by other werewolves, he had barely experienced any disorientation upon returning to human form at all. It was like Vida said: they were all buoyed by each other's energy.

"So how did you like your first pack run?" Seth turned to see Hayden under the shower head to his left. The older man gestured back to where Vida was still keeping an eye on a sulking Maggie. "Excluding the behaviour of certain wolves, that is. I won't justify it, but the younger ones do tend to appreciate when someone new joins the pack."

"I got that feeling, yeah." Years ago, it might have been flattering—even appealing; now, even if he weren't with Becky, Seth would have just found it exhausting to be the hot new toy until another newcomer showed up. "The run was fantastic," he admitted freely, running his fingers through his hair to untangle it. "It felt . . . immense. I don't know how to describe it. And shifting back has never been that simple for me before. It felt. . . ."

"Natural?" Hayden supplied. "That's how it always should have been. I'm truly sorry you didn't grow up within a pack. I did and it made things so much easier." As if sensing Seth's oncoming question, he sighed. "My pack was mostly eradicated by hunters. It was one of the first attacks, before any of the werewolves in this country even knew hunters were something we needed to fear. Only a handful of us survived, and most of them willingly abandoned their wolves, shifting only when necessary and always in private, essentially living as human and never having children so they couldn't pass on the genes." Then he gave a wistful smile as he turned his face up against the spray of the water. "But I love the running too much, being one with the moon. I could never give it up. So whenever I met other isolated or solitary wolves, I extended the invitation. Some accepted; many didn't. Other packs were attacked, creating other solitaries."

"If I stay solo," Seth asked slowly, stepping out of the direct spray and wringing water out of his hair, "how much will I have to worry about hunters? Will they target my friends too?" There were so many things he hadn't even thought to consider.

Hayden shrugged as he stepped back as well. As soon as they were off the platform, two other people took their places. "It's hard to say, and I'm not saying that just to make you feel like you need to align with us. Sometimes there isn't strength in numbers; sometimes it just makes for a bigger target. You're a public figure; if others deduce your identity, you could be at greater risk, yes, but it could also work in your favour. As a celebrity, your death would be more noticeable than Madison's, let's say. Young female college student? They disappear all the time—sad but true. A famous athlete who's on television at least once a week? That's a bit harder to cover up."

Seth grabbed a towel from a large stack and towelled off as quickly as he could. His clothes would cling to him, but it wasn't that long of a drive and he really did want to get back to Becky. "I appreciate the honesty. And the invitation, even if I don't like the way you went about it. I need some time to think about it, though. I need to think about a lot of things."

"Of course." Hayden shook his hand. "There's a lot to consider. But whatever you decide, rest assured your secret is safe with us. We won't reveal your nature to anyone."

"Thanks." Once he was finished dressing, Seth did a quick round of goodbyes, purposefully waiting until Maggie was having a shower. It was well and truly dark by the time he left, pockets full of business cards and scraps of folded paper with scrawled names and phone numbers. If Becky wasn't still awake, he wouldn't be mad; he just hoped she hadn't gone to sleep upset, at least. He didn't want her to worry about him or the pack, but he knew it was inevitable, just like he couldn't help worrying about her. As he drove, though, he kept thinking about something that he didn't want to dwell on: Becky might have been better suited to pack life than he was.


	12. Chapter 12

When Seth arrived back at the hotel, it felt like the darkness had doubled, highlighting the few windows that were still lit. He knew they were on the top floor, but considering that it was a small-town hotel, that wasn't saying much; it was the equivalent of being on the third floor of a narrow Victorian house. Looking up, he was sure one of their rooms was lit up, but he couldn't tell if it was his and Becky's or Dean's solo suite.

_I should have brought coffee or something,_ Seth thought on his way up, pulling the wad of folded papers and business cards out of his pocket and stuffing them in his bag. The town was small enough that almost everything closed around supper time, but there was a late-night diner that catered to long-haul truckers where he could have stopped for a snack. Strangely, his stomach wasn't protesting yet. Another fringe benefit of running with a pack, maybe? He wished he had thought to ask about hunger and cravings and food. _I'll have to start a list of questions,_ he told himself.

Once he reached the top floor, he quickly realized it was his and Becky's room that was lit up; aside from Dean's room there were only two others and what he assumed was a supply closet so the housekeeping staff wouldn't have to lug cleaning equipment between floors; the elevator didn't sound reliable at all. He knocked before sliding his key in, but no one came to the door so he ended up opening it himself. _Maybe she fell asleep with the light on?_ he thought, stepping inside and kicking off his shoes. Once Becky got comfy, she could sleep almost anywhere.

"Hey, man." Dean waved at him from the small couch where he and Becky were sitting, cross-legged and facing each other. On the middle cushion was an old deck of Garfield-branded playing cards. "We're just finishing up a riveting best-of-five match of Go Fish. It's like Reverse Strip Poker. When you win, you put on a layer of clothes." He then pointed to Becky, who was wearing his hoodie and toque, before shaking his wrist to draw attention to the bracelets there. "She was freezing, so I didn't have the heart to take her socks."

"And while you've been running your mouth. . . ." Becky put down her last pair and smiled.

"Damn." Dean leaned back and sighed, wriggling Becky's bracelets off his wrist and handing them back to her. When she started to shrug out of his hoodie, though, he shook his head. "Keep it until tomorrow, Irish. I'm good."

Seth approached slowly and kissed the top of Becky's head. "You can have mine," he said, sliding his down his arms and setting it in her lap before going back to the door to get his bag.

Dean watched him intently, and it took Seth a moment to realize his friend was on the lookout for wolfish behaviour. "I'm good, man. Honestly. That was the smoothest transition back I've ever had."

He immediately regretted saying it when he saw Becky's gaze drop. "So you had a good run then?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice level as she took off Dean's hoodie and held it out to him.

"I learned a lot. Came away with even more questions, because of course I didn't think of them at the time." Seth set his bag by the bedroom door and then sat on the floor by the couch while Dean collected the cards and shuffled them once before shoving them back in their age-worn box. "It's like any group, I guess. Some good people, some . . . less good."

Becky's gaze slid over to him, but she said nothing as she pulled his hoodie on and snuggled into it, yelping as Dean pulled his toque free from her head. "Well, people are people, as they say." Dean tugged the toque down over his head and pulled a few stray red hairs free. "Turns out that some wolves are people too. Or some people are wolves. Whichever. I'll let myself out so you two can play the Reverse-Reverse Strip Poker version of Go Fish."

Seth's brow furrowed. "Wouldn't Reverse-Reverse just be . . . regular?"

Dean shrugged. "Probably. But it wouldn't sound as cool." He gave Seth a friendly punch to the shoulder. "Fill me in tomorrow, man. I'm tired and I'm probably going to have trippy dreams about orange cats now." He shoved his feet into his shoes without tying them.

Seth waited until Dean had left their suite to sit on the couch, reaching for Becky's hand. "Hey."

"Hey." Some of the bleariness in her eyes was likely from being tired, but Seth could smell a hint of the stinging scent of salt too; she must have stopped crying a while ago. "So how did things go?"

"We don't have to talk about it tonight if you don't want to," Seth said softly, pulling her into his arms. She wasn't exactly stiff, but she didn't melt into him like she usually did. "You look worn out. Why don't we just get some sleep?"

"Did that Maggie try to fuck you?" Becky's voice was plain, stripped bare, but Seth could hear the strain beneath it.

He didn't want to lie to her, not unless he had to. There would be more than enough occasions where he would need to lie to keep her safe, but this wasn't one of them. "Yes."

Becky went silent, burying her face against his neck. If their positions were reversed, he would have said she was trying to catch any scents on him, but her nose wasn't keen enough for that. "Okay." 

Somehow hearing that tiny little word hurt more than if she had started yelling, accusing him of cheating on her. "I didn't. You know I didn't." He tried to keep any defensiveness out of his voice.

"I said I would understand. Things happen. You don't have to justify anything." Becky let out a shaky breath as she cuddled against him. "So what all did you lea—"

"Becks." Seth turned around a bit and cradled her face in both hands, forcing her to look at him. "I told you I wasn't interested in fucking any of them. I told them the same. In no uncertain terms. I want you to know that." He thought about telling her that he turned down advances and chose to come straight back to her, but worried that Becky might think he was protesting too much to be genuine.

"I do. I just—" Tears started dripping down her face again and Becky tried to move away, but Seth held her tight. "I know it's stupid," she spat, "but I also know that you worry about me. You worry all the time about hurting me, and that wouldn't be a concern if your girlfriend was—"

"Don't. Don't say it. Don't even bother thinking it," Seth interjected, "because it's a waste of energy." It made him think back to Hayden's question about turning Becky, though, and he hated to admit that it was taking up more space in his head than it should. It would absolutely have to be her choice, and she would have to have enough knowledge to make that choice fairly, but just thinking about sharing all those sensations with Becky was incredible. "Come on. Let's go to bed and I'll tell you and Dean everything tomorrow so I'm not repeating myself and boring you." Then Seth stood and coaxed Becky to her feet. "And if you want, you can help me think of questions. I know I have some for my mother." Seth tried to quash the bitterness that rose up in him again. It wasn't all Holly's fault, of course; she couldn't have forced his father's family to spend time with him. But she also wasn't helping the situation much, and her cold-shoulder attitude to Becky and Dean had to stop. "So I should go visit her sometime soon."

Becky's lips twitched. "I think I'll pass this time. I don't feel like freezing my ass to the porch swing, and I doubt Dean wants a repeat either."

Seth kissed the top of her head. "I'm going to talk to her about that, I promise." He pulled her in close and slid his hands under her shirt. "How cold are you now?"

"I just put this hoodie on," Becky protested, lips still struggling to smile. 

"I know." Seth flipped the hood forward so Becky's face was in shadow before he leaned in to kiss her. He could immediately feel the heat building within the confines of the hood and he knew the instant Becky did too, because she wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed. "But I'm hoping I'll be a close second."

They tumbled into the bed fully clothed, and Seth pulled the blankets high over their heads, recreating the cocooning effect of the hoodie on a larger scale as they kissed languidly. It must have taken them almost half an hour to eventually get all their clothes off, but he didn't care. Maybe there were some things he would miss out on by not having a werewolf for a lover, but he couldn't imagine losing himself so thoroughly, so willingly, with anyone but Becky.


	13. Chapter 13

Seth started out the morning with good intentions, or at least plans. He'd meant to get out of bed while Becky was still sleeping—or at least too drowsy to protest—and head to his mother's house. The first time he woke up, though, Becky had gotten up too, and it didn't take much for him to get distracted. The next time he managed to get out of bed and even get dressed, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. It was probably a stretch to say that Becky ever looked peaceful, but when she was sleeping, some of the sharpness of her jaw softened. When she was awake, she sometimes looked like she was taking on the world, but when she was resting, there was a sense of ease, a pause between one battle and the next. He must have made some kind of sound, because her eyes fluttered open and she reached up to stroke his cheek. She was sleepy enough that she ended up getting his nose first, but he just laughed, kissed her palm, and leaned into her touch. "If you want me to go with you," she murmured, voice raspy with sleep, "I will. I just don't want to make things worse for you."

Sitting on the bed, Seth stroked her mussed hair. "No, I should go by myself. It'll be easier and then I can get back here quicker." He would have loved to stay curled up in bed with her all morning, but he knew he had to deal with his werewolf matters sooner rather than later. "But I won't be long." Then he leaned down to kiss her cheek goodbye, but ended up nuzzling her neck instead, taking a minute to parse her scent: the lingering crispness of her shampoo—citrus-based, but with something mellow too, like vanilla or coconut—her sleep sweat and a hint of his.

Becky's hand curled in his hair as she snuggled closer. "Are you scent-marking me or something?" she asked, her laugh muffled by the pillow.

"Not quite." Seth pressed his lips to her throat and breathed softly, smiling as her pulse sped up. She wasn't far off, to be honest: he was trying to take her scent with him, keeping it close to help him focus on the uncomfortable questions he might have to ask his mother. If Becky were there in person, she would hold his hand or rub his shoulders; since she wouldn't be, maybe he could take in a hint of her every time he breathed. "I love you." It was something they didn't say much, probably because they didn't want to jinx things, but he needed her to know.

That made Becky open her eyes fully and meet his gaze. "Seth . . . do I need to be worried?"

Seth shook his head. "No. I'm just going to Mom's. I'll ask her some questions and that's it."

Becky's gaze searched his for a long moment before she nodded. "Okay. Come back soon. I love you too." Then she pulled him down into a slow, lazy kiss that almost made him lose his balance.

"See you soon," Seth said as he reluctantly pulled away, kissing Becky's forehead and tucking the blankets around her before he left, calling his mother on his way to the SUV to make sure she was home. It wasn't that long of a drive to his mother's house, but doing it alone made it feel endless; no amount of music—since he was alone, he was able to listen to his sappy playlist of songs that reminded him of Becky—was able to fill the void. 

When he pulled up in front of her house, Holly already had the front door open and was waving. "Hi, sweetheart! I wish you'd called me yesterday and told me you were coming! I would have made you something for breakfast. . . ."

Seth shook his head as he headed up the walkway. "I'm not that hungry yet," he fibbed smoothly, "and I won't be too long. I've got some interviews scheduled for the afternoon, so I'm trying to get errands done in the morning."

"So busy." Holly gave his cheek an affectionate pat before motioning him inside. Once they were both inside and the door was shut, concern tightened her face. "What's wrong, Colby? Have you had another run-in with those other wolves?"

"Yes and no. But that's not why I wanted to talk with you." Seth took off his shoes and headed for the couch. He knew this house almost as well as his own, but it had never felt more alien to him, not even when his mother first moved in and it was empty. He wasn't sure what order to ask his questions in, but there was one matter he knew he needed to address. "My family is my pack, Mom. You know that. But so is Roman." He saw her shoulders stiffen in anticipation of what was coming. "And so are Dean and Becky. You don't have to like them. You don't have to like any of my friends or girlfriends. But you need to respect that they matter to me."

"I'm only thinking of you, sweetheart," Holly insisted, sitting beside him and squeezing his hands. "I know how much wrestling means to you. If your secret got out, your career would be over."

"Dean would never do that. Neither would Becky." Seth shut his eyes and sighed. Even in an absolute worst case scenario, he couldn't imagine Becky being so bitter and destructive that she would reveal his true nature to the world. "Listen, Mom. You've done so much for me over the years; I probably don't even know the half of it. And I'm so grateful for all your help. But you're used to protecting me on your own, and you don't have to do that anymore. That's a good thing, trust me. That's why werewolves have packs. Protection. Support. Strength in numbers. I'm not going to go tell everyone on the roster," he added quickly before Holly could launch her go-to defence. "But Roman and Dean and Becky are my core. I trust them with my life."

Holly huffed out a breath and looked away. "You know I trust Roman. Dean strikes me as too erratic, but if you say he's trustworthy, I'll take your word for it. But Becky—you've just started seeing her, sweetheart. You were with a girl for six years—engaged, even!—and she didn't know, yet you think it's okay to tell Becky after a matter of weeks?"

" _Mom._ " Seth punched the bridge of his nose. "I've _known_ Becky for six years. We've always been good friends. She's not going to drop out of my life on a whim, even . . . even if something happened and we broke up." He hated even giving words to the possibility, but he knew he had to be realistic. "It's _my_ pack," he said at last, hoping he sounded definitive. "And Dean and Becky are in it. If you don't like that, then. . . ." He had to trail off. There was no way he could cut his mother out of his life, but he wasn't going to let her make him choose between her or Dean and Becky.

She was silent for almost a full minute before she sighed. "I still think it's too fast," she said firmly, "and Dean is too scatter-brained. But for your sake, I'll try to be more open-minded."

Seth figured it was the best he could ask for at the moment. "Thank you. Did you get all the notes ready like I asked?"

"They're right here." Holly rose and went over to the dining room table, returning with a stack of papers and notebooks. "What are you looking for? I can help you search—"

"I'm taking them," Seth said flatly. "I'll make copies and bring those over, but the originals should stay with me, I think. I'm the wolf here, Mom. I'm the one who needs this information."

"But . . . but what if someone finds it in your house?" Holly sputtered, eyes wide with confusion. "What if your housekeeper saw them?"

"I've got a safe place for them," Seth assured her, "and they would be just as suspicious if someone found them in your house. If I need access to the originals, it's better that I have them close at hand. I know you wouldn't keep them from me, but I'd still feel better with the originals at my house. Then if Roman or Dean or Becky need it quickly, they can get to it."

"Okay." Holly looked lost as she gazed down at her hands in her lap. "It's . . . it's never been my intention to keep things from you, Colby. I hope you know that. I only ever wanted to help."

"I know." Seth held his mother for a moment, hoping she wouldn't cry. He hadn't wanted to upset her; these were issues he should have brought up years before and instead he had let them slide. Now that he was seeing the true value of information and a strong pack, he knew he had to start taking action. As he took a deep breath, he caught the scent of Becky's shampoo again and sighed. If he was going to be honest, it had to be about everything, even the parts that made him look horrible. "I have to tell you something," he started slowly. "I'm not proud of it, but you need to know it happened."

Holly sat back and, for the first time Seth could recall, he saw a glint of true fear in her eyes, even as she tried to steady herself. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Not this full moon but around the last one. . . ." Seth scratched at his beard and tried to focus on Becky. If she could forgive him, then he could forgive himself. "After I encountered those other wolves and came to you for information, I accidentally attacked Becky." He wrapped his hands around his knees and forced himself to look up, if not quite meet his mother's stricken gaze. "I started a partial shift unexpectedly and then I . . . had my claws in her jaw. When Roman called and you told him about the manuka honey, that was for her, not me."

"Oh my god." Holly raised her hands to her mouth. "I thought it was odd that she wasn't on TV for . . . for a month." Her eyes somehow managed to get even wider. "Oh. Was she infe—did she change?"

Seth shook her head. "No. I followed everything in our notes and what I could learn from relatives. Thankfully she's fine." He forced himself to meet his mother's gaze at last. "See, Mom? This is what I mean. Becky had every reason to expose my secret, to . . . dump me. And she didn't. Even when she was bleeding and in pain, she kept asking if I was okay. If _I_ was okay," he repeated, "when she was the one who was hurt. When I was the one who hurt her." His eyes were burning with unshed tears.

"Oh, baby. I'm so sorry." Holly wrapped her arms around her son and held him close. "I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't tell me. How's Becky doing? You said she's okay?"

"Yeah." Seth thought about telling her how he could see scars when no one else could—no humans, anyway—but he was trying to foster positivity between his mother and Becky, not lingering animosity. "Yeah, it was sore for a while and . . . well, it didn't look pretty, so that's why she wasn't on TV. But it's healed up nicely and she doesn't seem to be having any side effects, so . . . it was a close call, I guess, and I'm glad we came out on the good side of it."

Holly hesitated before speaking. "Do you know what triggered it?" she asked cautiously. Then she blushed slightly and added, "It wasn't what happened at the house, was it? I know it made you upset, and being so close to the full moon. . . ."

Now Seth drew his mother close, kissing the top of her head. "No, Mom. I don't think it was just one thing. It was probably residual from the full moon and then stress about the attack and . . . you know, a lot of things. And it doesn't really matter. It happened and I just don't want it to happen ever again—to any of you. That's why it matters so much to me that you try to accept her and Dean, Mom. I don't want to keep things from any of you."

"I'll try. I promise." Holly's eyes were wet with tears too as she patted her son's cheek. "Do you think a pack dinner would be a good start? You could bring Roman and Dean and Becky over and we could clear the air?"

The tension in Seth's shoulders started to melt away. He didn't expect his mother and Becky to become best friends, but if they could be friendly enough to sit through a conversation without the temperature in the room dropping ten degrees, he'd be happy. "I think so. Roman's with his family right now, but I'll let them all know you'd like to have them over."

"Thank you." Then she looked a bit sheepish. "And you don't need to worry about making copies for me. I already have some. I thought it wouldn't hurt to have some spares." With a chuckle, she added, "What can I say? I'm a mom!"

"The best mom," Seth corrected, "and I'm lucky to have you." He ended up staying longer than he'd planned, taking his mother out for a quick breakfast at a local cafe. By the time he got back home, he expected that Becky would be working out or watching television, but he found her still in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. "Babe," he teased, "it's almost noon. You planning on getting up today?"

"When you're lost, you're supposed to stay where you are to make it easier to find you," Becky said with a sleepy grin. "I figured if I stayed in bed, you'd find me eventually."

Seth stretched out beside her on top of the covers. "Found you." He kissed the tip of her nose before settling his head on her pillow.

Becky squirmed until she got a hand outside of the blanket to push hair out of his face. "So how did your visit go?" she asked, voice carefully neutral.

"As good as I could hope. I told her I wanted the originals." He motioned over his shoulder to his dresser, where they sat in a pile waiting to be sorted and stashed away. "Turns out she already had copies, so I don't need to make an extra set. Not yet, anyway." Stroking Becky's cheek, he added, "Depending on how much time I end up spending at your place, it might not be a bad idea for you to have a set. Roman and Dean too. Then any of you can look things up without having to wait for me or my mom." He watched Becky's face closely, trying to gauge her reaction.

She laughed at his self-conscious scrutiny. "You're asking me to store copies of your notes, Rollins, not to marry you. You don't need to be so nervous!" Then Becky wriggled forward and kissed him. "But yes, if you want to keep some at my place, I'm fine with that. I have a wall safe they could go in."

The small acceptance shouldn't have made him feel giddy, but it did. If Becky could come to terms with his wolf, he could hold out hope for a serious relationship. "Cool. I'll ask Roman and Dean later. Mom wants to have you all over for a pack dinner, by the way. I told her she couldn't keep disrespecting you and Dean, and I told her you're part of my pack whether she likes it or not."

Becky's shoulders hunched up. "I bet that went over well."

Seth kissed her again. With her so close, it was hard not to touch her, so he was doing his best to keep the layers of blankets between them as a buffer. "Not as bad as you might expect. I mean, I don't think she's going to invite you out with the girls for Wine Night," Seth allowed, "but it's really not about you. Or Dean, even. She's spent so many years guarding my secret that she gets overprotective, and I told her she has to learn to trust my judgement." He reached over and tucked some hair behind Becky's ear, grinning despite himself when her eyes fluttered shut at his touch. "So do you think you're up to a pack dinner? I'll tell her you're gluten-free and all that."

Becky nodded slowly. "If Dean is, sure. I want you to have the support you need, so I can put up with some motherly paranoia, but my patience has limits."

"Trust me," Seth laughed, "that I know." He debated whether to tell her about his confession, but realized he had little choice: now that his mother knew, she was bound to be looking at Becky's face for scars. Besides, if he wanted honesty, it had to be all across the board. Wrapping an arm around her, he snuggled in closer, pressing their foreheads together. "And I told her about the attack too," he added softly, imagining his words, his breath, drifting over her scars. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he didn't think they were as noticeable anymore.

Becky stiffened up beneath his arm, but he knew she wasn't cold. "Why? Now she'll just have another reason to think we shouldn't be together."

Seth had figured Holly might say something to that effect too, which was why he brought up other issues first. The attack was his fault and he didn't want his mother holding it against Becky. "She needed to know because we're not sure what triggered it. It could happen again when I'm visiting her or here with you. Even when I'm in the ring." He shuddered at the thought. "That's partially why we told Hunter. Maybe with all the notes and new wolves to contact—ones that will actually talk to me—I can start figuring out more of the small stuff. . . ."

"Well, at least one of your packs will like me," Becky replied, twirling some of his hair around her finger. "I guess that's a start."

"Hey. I'm not joining Vida and the others, not for sure." That sparked something in Seth's memory. "Vida wanted to apologize, by the way, to you and to Dean. They'd been having problems with hunters and they made assumptions. They thought you might have been there to track me or deceive me."

"Hm." Becky's eyes drifted mostly shut again. "Did you have breakfast?"

Seth nodded. "Yeah. I took Mom out before I headed back. I think I made her feel a bit . . . left out, and I wanted to make sure she knew she was still a big part of my pack." Then he pulled his arm back enough that he could feel Becky's stomach. "How are you not hungry yet? It's almost afternoon."

"I am," she admitted, "but I'm too comfy to care." Then Becky opened her eyes just enough to look at him. "Unless you're offering breakfast in bed?" When Seth shook his head, she tried again. "Coffee?"

"Downstairs in the kitchen," he teased, sitting up with a groan. "You can even wear your pyjamas."

Becky scoffed and burrowed deeper into the covers. "Bold of you to assume I'm wearing pyjamas." When Seth reached for the edge of the blankets and pulled them down to check, she yelped. 

As Seth suspected, she was wearing one of his old shirts and a pair of sweatpants. "I'll leave you my hoodie," he offered. At first he was going to leave it on the bed, but then thought better of it. "Over here, though, so you get your ass out of bed." He hung it off the doorknob to force her to get up.

"Tyrant." Becky sat up, though, rubbing at her eyes as she yawned. "Hey, Seth?" Her tone had gone suddenly serious, and when Seth looked at her, there was a strange glint in her eyes. "When I asked you this morning if you were scent-marking me . . . you were actually smelling me, weren't you?"

"You smell fine," Seth said quickly. One of the first things he had learned about being a werewolf was that most humans didn't like being told they had a scent, even if it was one that he found comforting. "I did it because your scent calms me down." It felt strange to admit, but it was worth the silly little smile that lifted Becky's cheeks. "I thought if I had it on me, I'd be able to stay focussed when I was talking with my mom."

"Oh. Okay." Becky paused for a moment, suddenly shy. She didn't meet his gaze as she added, "Did it help at all?" Slinging her legs over the side of the bed, she took a deep breath and stood, rolling her neck from side to side. 

"Absolutely." Once Becky was on her feet, Seth came over and kissed her again, draping his hoodie around her shoulders. "Come on. We can talk about everything over coffee."

There was nothing graceful about how Becky plodded down the stairs or practically crawled onto one of the stools by the island, but Seth loved watching her all the same, and he could tell the feeling was mutual. Her gaze was a welcome warmth on his back as he puttered around the kitchen, starting the coffee first before reaching for her bread. "Just coffee's good," Becky said, jaw cracking as she yawned. "I was thinking we could maybe head to the coffee shop and I could have something there, and then we could work out after?"

Seth smiled. For the longest time, he hasn't owned a toaster; now that he did, Becky didn't trust him to use it. "Sounds good." The kitchen got more natural light than his bedroom did, and he found his gaze drawn to her jaw again. "Becks, if your jaw really did hurt or you felt sick or whatever, you'd tell me, right? You're not just trying to make me feel less guilty?"

Becky's smile was one of gentle exasperation. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt. If you're really concerned about my jaw, though," she said with a wink, "we can take blowjobs off the menu. . . ."

"You know, now that you mention it, your jaw looks perfectly healed. Not a scratch. Can't even tell anything happened." Seth was laughing as he said it, though, and when he poured Becky the first cup of coffee and handed it to her, his fingers lingered on hers. "Seriously, though—"

"I am _seriously_ fine." Becky leaned across the island and kissed his hand where it met hers. "If that changes, you'll be the first to know. I promise." When she sat back, she added, "Why? Do the scars look worse to you?"

Seth had to give her credit. She might not have been able to see the scars, but she didn't doubt what he could see. "No. They actually look a little better. Maybe it's all in my head. I don't know." The doorbell rang, making Becky slosh coffee on the counter. "You expecting anything?" When Becky shook her head, Seth tossed her a roll of paper towels. "I'll go check."

The security screen by the front door showed a courier driver with a box the size of a footstool. "Mr. Lopez?" he asked, holding out an electronic pad. "Package from Ms. Leonard."

It took Seth a moment to recognize the last name as Vida's from her business card. "Thanks," Seth said, signing for the parcel. "Have a great day."

"Thanks. You too, sir." Then the driver was hurrying back to his truck, leaving Seth to bring the box inside the house. He recognized the logo on the side and hefted the box to the kitchen, where Becky gave it an odd look.

"From Vida. Her company works with video games and virtual reality," he explained as he cut the tape seals on the box and opened the flaps. Cushioned within walls of packing foam was a custom virtual reality console with all the extras, including player gloves with claws that resembled a wolf's. "What the hell?"

Becky noticed the card first and she opened it while Seth was trying the gloves on for size. " _The next best thing to being a wolf_ ," she read, " _so your pack can understand you even better._ "

"Huh. Dean's going to have a ball." Then Seth held a glove out to Becky. "Want to try?"

"Later." Becky reached for her cup. "I'm a bear before my coffee," she quipped. "I can be a wolf afterwards."


	14. Chapter 14

When Vida had told Seth she wanted to apologize to Becky and Dean for the attack in the woods, he figured she meant something like a fancy dinner or a tour of her company's headquarters, maybe with a sneak peek at games and gearyet to be announced. Vida provided both—substituting a grand brunch for dinner, after Seth told her about Becky's love for breakfast foods. "Why does Roman get apology swag?" Dean asked as they followed Vida from the company's private restaurant, patting his belly. The chefs were used to catering to an array of allergies and preferences, so all four of them had been able to have the breakfast of their wildest dreams. "He wasn't even there."

Luckily Vida seemed to have caught on to Dean's dry humour quickly, because she just laughed. "This is part apology, part helping hand—or paw, if you would. Since I knew Seth would want him here for the second part, I figured there was no harm in him being for the first."

Roman nodded his head in acknowledgement. "I'd never turn down a breakfast like that. Your employees are very lucky."

"They're very talented," Vida corrected, "and we want to retain the best talent we can, so we try to make it worth their while to stay with us. The restaurant is staffed twenty-four hours a day, so if you want anything while we're on the tour, just ask."

"I bet you their kitchen has the god of toasters," Becky said as she swung her and Seth's clasped hands back and forth. "Or a toaster worthy of the gods. That toast was _amazing_."

Seth rolled his eyes. "It's toast. It's literally burned bread. It's not that technical."

"The simplest things are the hardest to master," Becky retorted. "Thousands of martial arts movies can't be wrong." She was too happy to bother pressing the matter, though, and Seth was just glad to see her in good spirits. Vida had promised that there would only be one other werewolf on the premises, a designer named Cerise who had helped design the wolf simulator, and that seemed to put Becky more at ease. 

The building was a twisting, arching marvel of glass and steel, and they could see most of San Francisco from its generous windows as they headed to the developmental labs. Vida had already gifted them gaming consoles and had impressions taken of their hands so custom controllers could be built. When she heard about UpUpDownDown, her face became even more animated. "Do you think Xavier would be interested in any custom pieces? Maybe we could sponsor a giveaway on his channel."

"If you're not careful," Seth cautioned, "you'll have him camping out in the lobby. Seriously, he'd be stoked with any gear or sneak peek you'd give him."

Vida tapped at her phone vigorously. "Excellent. I'll have our promotions team get in touch with him. I won't mention that we're acquainted," she added, "just so neither of us have to remember a crafty lie."

"Have you designed other stuff to make things easier for us?" Seth asked, not sure if he should even say _wolves_ out loud. In such a technologically savvy building, there had to be all sorts of security surveillance. 

"That's part of why I got into it. My sister went into medicine and we consult her whenever we have a medical issue," Vida explained, "and I was starting to go the same route, but more with designing prostheses. As you might imagine, things like artificial hips can make life difficult for us at times. Then in university, I started playing video games with my roommates and I saw so much potential there. The simulators can also help traumatized people learn coping techniques and aid those who suffer from delusions in determining what's real and what's not. Gaming is actually quite a small part of what we do, but its success funds our other ventures."

_Hip replacements?_ Seth hadn't thought about werewolves needing those. Part of him was surprised werewolves would live that long; any of the ones he had met were fifty or younger. He could see where any sort of implant—pacemakers, fake teeth, artificial hips or knees or even breasts—might not hold up under the rigours of shifting at least once a month, however. "Very cool. Next time I get hurt, I know who to call."

Vida smiled warmly. "Any time. We're happy to help, but it's also beneficial for us. There are so few of us that we don't have a large testing base. Any new condition or injury we can see and treat, the more we can learn." Then she stopped in front of a sleek metal door that didn't seem that much different from any other they had passed. "Have you shown your friends, Seth, or just Becky so far?"

Seth bit back the urge to say that Becky was also a friend. He had seen so many relationships where the couple had the romantic and sexual angles covered, but when it came to simple friendship, they didn't seem to get along that well. Thankfully he had all three with Becky. "Just Becky. She was at my place when the package arrived."

Becky grinned over at Dean. "It's just eating you up that I got to see it first, isn't it?" Neither she nor Seth had told Dean and Roman about the simulator, mostly because Seth wanted to see them interact with it with no preconceived notions.

"Considering you couldn't even find the power button on a PlayStation when I first met you," Dean laughed, "yeah, just a little. But I'm cool. Had a good breakfast. Walked some of it off. Didn't get attacked today. It's a win in my book."

"Good thing you have low-maintenance friends, huh?" Roman bumped shoulders with Seth after they entered the large testing area, but as all the lights turned on, his eyes went wide with wonder. "What the hell? Is that. . . ?"

"An animatronic werewolf, yes." Vida beamed with pride. "This isn't what you get to take home with you; there are still too many tweaks to be made. You'll have the virtual reality console, though, and that ultimately connects with this." She grabbed a pair of the wolf-clawed gloves from a table and held them out. "Who wants to go first?"

Since Dean was practically jumping out of his boots, Roman waved him ahead. "Learning curve," he said with a chuckle as Dean followed Vida over to a player platform. "Besides, I want to see what this looks like from the outside." They had already been asked not to record anything they saw or heard on the premises, so taking a video of Dean's antics wasn't allowed; memories would have to do. The three of them sat down in a tiered theatre-like area that offered excellent views of both the wolf and the player's platform. "And you've got one at home?" Roman turned to Becky. "Have you tried it yet?"

Becky pressed her face to Seth's shoulder. "Let's just say I'm not any more graceful when I think I'm on four legs. But I'll keep trying." When Seth smiled down at her, she blushed. It was far from saying she had any interest in actually being a werewolf, but even if the process helped her understand his wolf form a bit more, it was worth it.

"For the simulated shift," Vida explained as she sat with Becky, Roman, and Seth, "we used a birthing simulator as a template. I've heard that the experiences are similar."

Roman gave Seth a friendly jab. "So remember that before you tell Becky you want to have six kids."

Both Seth and Becky flushed a bit. "Let me concentrate on dating her for a few months. Then it's going to be a marriage talk first. Kids will have to wait."

"That's right." Becky was smiling, though, so part of Seth silently hoped that she saw a future with him just as much as he hoped for one with her. "I've got belts to win and records to break."

"Fuckity fucking _fuck_!" On the player's platform, Dean writhed and crashed to his knees as the animatronic wolf lumbered to its feet, rolling its neck.

"Don't worry," Vida assured the others. "The gloves, helmet, and platform simply mimic the pain by activating certain nerves. They don't inflict any actual damage."

Becky, Roman, and Seth all looked on, rapt. For Becky and Roman, it was like watching Seth's shifting process if it were split in two; for Seth, it was like being on the outside looking in. For the first time, he was able to witness a bit of what his friends saw, to see what happened to him at least once a month. Dean's swearing streak had been reduced to guttural snarls— _True to life_ , Seth thought—and even Vida jumped a bit as the wolf started to move within its fenced-in pen. "Holy shit," Seth whispered. The lag time between Dean's movements and the wolf's interpretation of them was minimal; he doubted Becky and Roman would be able to sense it at all. "That's incredible."

"Thank you." Vida was beaming with pride. "Cerise and I have worked very hard on this. It's been helpful for some of the younglings who have trouble completing a shift. We'll record their session and they can watch it back to see their actions. It's even helpful for experienced wolves. It's not unlike an athlete watching their game to find their weaknesses." 

Now that he had the hang of it, Dean was clearly having a blast, bouncing and prowling around. Vida got up and set a remote-controlled rabbit in the pen with the wolf, and Dean sent the wolf after it with gusto, crashing into the fencing and once diving head-first into the floor when the rabbit evaded him. "Oh god." Becky couldn't stop laughing. "I'd be an utter disaster up there. I nearly poked my eyes out with the gloves. I'll need to work up to this."

"Any time you want to give it a try," Vida replied, "just call and ask. Some werewolves forget they're human as well, and they treat their human side like . . . an inconvenience, or a vehicle to get them to the next full moon. But we are human, and most of us have humans in our lives that we love dearly. We can't share this with all of them, of course." She pointed to the animatronic wolf, chomping happily on the caught rabbit, and then to Dean, doing a little happy dance up on the platform to celebrate his successful hunt. "But I offer it to the humans our pack members trust the most. Obviously it requires secrecy and respect."

A door opened behind them, starting Becky and Roman, and a young woman walked out, pushing her cat's-eye glasses up her nose with such exasperation Seth figured it was a regular occurrence. "Hi, Vida." She waved awkwardly at the wrestlers. "Um, I don't know if you want to try the forest simulation quite yet?"

"No. That still needs some work." Vida stood and gestured to the young woman. "This is Cerise, our best designer. Without her, we never would have had the gloves done, let alone anything else. Cerise, I already told you about Seth. These are his friends Roman and Becky, and Dean is the one on the platform right now."

"Nice to meet you. Vida's giving you the simulation kits, yeah?" She dug into her pocket and pulled out four square-shaped business cards. "If you have any problems to troubleshoot, please contact me directly." She took one look at Roman, blushed furiously, and then turned to Becky, handing her all four cards. "I'll be able to answer your questions and the feedback will help me adjust the system quicker than if the requests come through Customer Service."

"Thank you." Becky turned to look at Dean for a second. Now that the immediate thrill of the hunt was over, he was practising his run. "That's really incredible. You should be very proud."

Cerise's blush came back full force. "Thank you. Well . . . I should get back to the booth." Then she nodded awkwardly at Seth. "Hope to see you at a run some time. Not . . . you know, _see_ you. Just . . . chat or whatever."

"Likewise," Seth said smoothly. She was as gangly in human form as he felt as a wolf sometimes.

Vida gave Dean another five minutes before pressing the button that would initiate the final sequence of the simulation. After he had tugged off the gloves, helmet, and other gear, Dean staggered over to them, bleary eyed and smiling from ear to ear. "That is fucking ridiculous. _Wow_." He flopped down in a seat and shut his eyes. "Holy fuck, that's exhausting. That's worse than a workout. Go up, Roman. You'll love it."

Roman laughed as he stood. "That's a ringing endorsement." He still went up to the player's platform and started putting on the gear, though, clearly curious about what Seth went through during a shift.

Watching Becky, Seth kissed the side of her head. "You don't have to if you don't want to," he said softly. "The lab's not going anywhere, and San Fran isn't that far from Los Angeles, really. Vida said you're welcome any time."

"I know." Becky settled back against him as they watched Roman get ready, bracing himself for the jolt of pain since he knew a bit of what to expect from watching Dean. "I think I like watching the real thing better, though." She laced her fingers with his again. "If that's okay?"

"That's fine." As Seth watched Roman jerk with the programmed shifting pains, Seth wasn't sure he was ready to watch Becky go through that—in a simulation or for real. That was a bridge to cross another day, and as long as he had the promise of more days with her, he could keep that particular bridge on the horizon.


	15. Chapter 15

It was as different a bonding experience from the simulations at Vida's headquarters as fire was from ice, but Seth knew they needed both. Each was about apologizing and understanding, and while his mother's house was definitely not as high-tech as Vida's company—Holly still called whenever she had to reset her router—it had its own challenges. Seth's stepfather was away for work, so Roman offered to handle the barbecue so Seth could help his mother. "Think of it like territory," Roman said softly. "Your mom has a bunch of outsiders on her turf. She needs some reassurance."

"Excuse me. Who's the werewolf here?" Seth joked. "I'm pretty sure it's me."

Roman snapped the barbecue tongs at him. "I don't know, man. I killed it on that simulation."

"Yeah, after you fell right off the platform. And the rabbit also _bounced off your head_." Laughing, Seth handed Roman a plate of burgers so he could get started. "I think those ones on the side are for Becky."

"Your mom's really trying," Roman noted. "I give her credit. It must be hard. I know I can find it hard to give JoJo more freedom sometimes, and she's just got regular old human problems."

"I know." Seth barely got out of the way before Dean stepped out into the backyard with a tray laden with condiments, napkins, and utensils. "Need any help in there?" he asked as Dean headed for the large picnic table. Seth had always loved eating outside as a kid—possibly another wolf trait—and through every move, his mother had always done her best to make sure they had a patio set or at least a picnic table so they could liven up their spring and summer suppers.

"Only if you know how to translate gluten talk," Dean replied, grabbing the mustard bottle before it could fall off the tray. "That stuff makes no sense to me."

_Oh shit._ He had tried to tell his mother about Becky's dietary restrictions—and Dean's and Roman's, to be fair—but maybe he had missed something. Sharing a look with Roman, Seth hurried back into the house, but came to a stop just outside the kitchen. One benefit of werewolf hearing, he had discovered early on, was that he didn't have to get too close to eavesdrop.

"I couldn't find the brand Seth said you liked," Holly said, underscored by clattering utensils; Seth knew she liked to rearrange things compulsively when she was nervous. "But I looked online and made a note of some brands, and I took the list with me to the store—"

"It's fine, Holly. It's great. I use this brand too. I didn't mean for you to go through such trouble. I could have brought something with me." Seth could tell Becky was making an effort to tone down her accent. "I know I've got a reputation as a kitchen disaster," she added with a self-deprecating laugh, "but I'm not that bad."

"Oh, I'm sure you're a great cook!" Even though he couldn't see his mother, Seth could picture her cheeks going pink; he could feel her awkwardness from where he stood. "When I was having trouble finding ingredients, I was going to give up and ask you two to bring something along, but I really wanted to try on my own." Then she cleared her throat, and Seth froze. He recognized that signal all too well: it meant Holly was going to either make a declaration or a confession. "I wanted to learn. If Seth's going to meet with that pack more often, then that means you two will be visiting more often, I hope, so I want to make sure I have things here that you can eat."

_Wow._ Seth hadn't been expecting that at all. He had been bracing himself for something like _Do you have an allergy or are you just one of those people who thinks gluten is bad for you?_ or _In my day, there weren't so many restrictions to consider. You ate what was on your plate._ His sigh of relief was so huge he nearly bumped into a plant stand and knocked it over. 

Becky seemed equally stunned, because she was speechless for a moment. "Oh. That's very sweet. You don't have to worry about me; I usually make sure to have something on hand. But I really appreciate it. That's very kind of you."

"You're welcome. You're never too old to learn new things, right? Seth was telling me about some sort of simulator one of the pack members designed. Does it actually hook up to a robot wolf? Wolf robot?" Holly laughed. "I'm still figuring out video chatting, so it's all new to me!"

"You and me both." Becky came into view in the doorway and when she turned, she spotted Seth in the shadows and raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "I have the starter kit version and I'm a disaster, so I don't think they'll be letting me back in the lab any time soon."

Since he'd been caught, Seth straightened up and headed into the kitchen. "Hey, ladies." He hugged his mom before heading over to Becky and kissing her cheek. "Roman's at the grill and Dean's fixing up the table. How can I help?"

Holly handed him a heaping salad bowl. "You can take that out. And don't say wolves don't eat plants. It didn't work for you as a teenager, and it won't work now." She smiled as Becky chuckled, and Seth was sure she'd said it for Becky's benefit. Some mothers embarrassed their sons with bathtub photos; Holly had a whole other level of humiliation ammunition she could deploy. "Oh, and the croutons are gluten-free too, so you don't have to worry."

"Cool. Thanks." Becky patted his cheek. "Embarrassing young werewolf stories are going to be my favourites, aren't they?"

Seth shook his head in resignation. "You're so lucky I can barely understand Irish accents," he replied, "or else I'd be calling your family for all your embarrassing stories."

Dean sauntered back in, grabbing a bunch of salad dressing bottles. "Just get Finn to translate."

"He'd still need someone to translate Finn!" Becky chuckled, bumping fists with Dean on his way out of the kitchen. Then she handed two plates of buns to Seth. "Green plate is gluten-free, red plate isn't."

"Oh, wait. Aren't wolves colour-blind?" Seth teased, stepping out of Becky's reach.

Rolling her eyes, Becky turned to Holly. "Did he ever try the whole _The dog ate my homework_ excuse and just take his school books out with him when he shifted?"

Holly wagged a finger at Seth's retreating form. "He did. He tried everything he could think of. And then there was that horrible phase—was it called emo?—when kids were wearing dog collars."

"Seriously? Do you have any pictures?" Seth had just stepped out into the yard and he could still feel the impish joy radiating from Becky.

"Nothing digital," Holly replied, blissfully in her element. "But I have albums! I'll get some out after we're done eating and—"

"I can still hear you!" Seth called out, handing the bun plates to Dean. When it came to organizing, Dean had a definitive system and Seth knew better than to disrupt it.

"I know!" Becky hollered back.

The area between the picnic table and the kitchen table became a hub of activity, with people moving back and forth, bringing things in or out of the house. By the time Holly had lit all the citronella candles and sat down, the sun was just starting to set. "I'm sorry. We should have started earlier. You'll be driving back in the dark now."

"That's okay. Dean and Roman don't fly out until lunchtime tomorrow," Seth said, "so this just means they're stuck with me a little longer." When Becky reached for the green plate of buns, he held up the red one instead. "Is this one the green? Or that one? I don't know. Wolf eyes, you know."

"I'll have to remember that when it comes to mint chocolate wrappers," Becky said sweetly. "I'm sure I can find some in red. . . ."

"I'd like to propose a toast," Holly said, looking around the table. The Shield brothers were all drinking beer, while she and Becky each had a glass of wine; she had impressed Seth by asking what Becky liked to drink, rather than just assuming the stereotype of Guinness. "You know the saying _It takes a village to raise a child_. Well, it takes a pack to raise a wolf. It does in the wild, and it does here. And for the longest time, Seth didn't have a pack. Not beyond me, anyway." Holly sniffled a bit and dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her sweater. "For a long time, I was trying to be everything Seth needed, and I guess I never really turned that switch off. I'm sorry for not seeing earlier what wonderful friends you are. I've only ever wanted the best for my son, and he couldn't have picked better friends—or a better pack. I'm glad he found you all, and I hope I get to know you all better."

Becky was the first to hold out her drink, and Seth was happy she went to clink with his mother first. "To Seth's pack."

"To Seth's pack," Roman echoed, lifting his beer can, "because family is more than blood."

"To Seth's pack," Dean chimed in, "because it makes saying _Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal_ way more fun."

Clinks and clangs rang out in the backyard as they all met with their drinks in the middle of the table. "I'm so grateful for all of you. Each of you has helped me so much more than you can possibly know, more than I can possibly repay. I know this isn't the type of pack some would say I should have grown up with, but I wouldn't change a thing. Every single decision got me here, and it helped me find you three," he said, gesturing to Becky, Dean, and Roman in turn. "And I can't imagine my life or my pack without any of you in it. Thank you for trusting me when I said what must have sounded absurd, for staying with me when common sense said to leave, and believing in me no matter how hard it was."

Holly kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair. "You're welcome, sweetheart. I'm still getting the photo albums out tonight, though."

"Did I say they fly out at lunchtime? I meant _midnight_." Seth feigned standing up. "Oh, look at the time. We should really get going—"

"Photo albums?" Dean perked up. "Relics of the pre-Rollins days? Count me in."

Roman smirked at Seth. "That's worth rescheduling a flight, man."

Seth's last chance for help was Becky, but she was smiling too. "I'll see them eventually," she said. "Better now than at the wedding, right?"

Seth nearly choked on his beer, making him miss what Dean said next, but the others all laughed. It was a small pack and he might have been the only wolf in it, but it fulfilled him more than running with dozens of werewolves had. Whenever he was with any one of them—Roman or Dean, Becky or his mother—he felt the furthest thing from alone.


End file.
